
Class ^Z C-LL— 

Book 31Ql 



(k)pyiight^^'_ . 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 




S. M'. DuFi.TR AT 19. 

Tliis ])!i( liigraph was taken while the author was on 
a furldiigh, fifteen days before he was taken prisoner. 




S. ]\T. DUFUR AT 59. 
Photographed by F. W. Wheelei- & Son, Richford, Vt. 



Over the Dead Line I 



OR 



^ Tracked by Blood=Hounds ^ 



f^lVING the Author'' s personal experience during eleven 
months that he was confined in Pevibertoii ^ Libby, Belle 
Island, Andersonville , Ga., and Florence, S. C, as a prisoner 
of war. Describing pla?is of escape, arrival of prisoners , his 
escape ayid recapture ; with mimerous and varied incidents and 
anecdotes of his priso7i life 



BY 

S. M. DUFUR 

Company B, 1st Vermont Cavalry 
War of 1S61-5 



THt LibKANY CF 
CONGRESS, 


Two Co 


pies 


ieceiverl 


DEC 


26 


190? 


Copyright 
CLASS <X 


Entry 
XXc. No, 


COPY 


9 5 

B. 



Copyright, 1902, 
By the Author, S. M Dufur. 



i- 



C 



S^ 



(jCp 



Printed by Free Press Association, liurlini/ton, Vt. 



PREFACE. 



In preparing this little volume, I have had an eye, not 
so much to a literary production, as to give in compliance 
with the oft repeated request of friends and relatives, a 
simple and truthful account of my experience in the 
prison pens of tiie South during the Great American 
Rebellion. This Great Republic was at that time di- 
vided against itself. The Northern and the Southern 
people were enemies to each other, and although I was 
forced to believe by the treatment to which I was sub- 
jected at the hands of my captors, that it was their delib- 
erate intention to destroy me, I can say, that it is with 
no feeling of hatred or revenge that I now give to my 
posterity a truthful account of what I saw and suffered. 

The Author. 
Richford Vt., Dec. 8th, 1902. 



INDEX TO CHAPTERS. 



Chapter I. 

Page I 

Peace and Unity reign supreme. 



Chapter H. 

Page 9 

Kilpatrick's famous cavalry raid around Rich- 
mond, Va. 



Chapter HI. 

Page 25 

My horse shot from under me. 

Wounded and taken prisoner. 



Chapter IV. 

Page 39 

Five of Col. Dahlgren's men and myself sen- 
tenced to death. 



Chapter V. 

Page 52 

From Belle Island I escape and with 600 old 

prisoners go to Andersonville. 



vi OVER THE DEAD LINE 

Chapter VI. 

Page 69 
Our arrival at Andersonville on March 14th, 
1864. 



Chapter VII. 

Page 85 
Shot to death for reaching a hand beyond the 

dead-hne. 



Chapter VIII. 

Page 100 
Pubhc execution of six Union soldiers for rob- 
bing and murdering their fellow prison- 
ers. 



Chapter IX. 

A young Massachusetts soldier's awful ex- 
perience. 



Page 116 



Chapter X. 

A nerve-trying experience. A live prisoner 
carried to the dead house as dead. 



Page 128 



Chapter XI. 

Page 139 
Arrival at FlcM^cnce, S. C. 
A break for libcrtv. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS vii 

Chapter XII. 

Page 153 
Eight days and nights wandering through 
Southern swamps and mountainous fast- 
nesses as escaped prisoners. 



Chapter XIII. 

Page 166 

Secreted by slaves, they throw our pursuers 
off the trail. 



Chapter XIV. 

Page 176 
The Negro prayer meeting. 
"Sist dese gemmen, O Lor, frou to de Norf." 



Chapter XV. 

Page if 
Escaped from the moon-shiners to be taken by 

blood-hounds. 



Chapter XVI. 

Page 203 
Our arrival at Florence prison after an awful 

experience of nine days and nights. 



Chapter XVII. 

Page 213 

Description of, and experience in, the Florence 

stockade. 



viii OVER THE DEAD LINE 

Chapter XVIII. 

Page 224 
During the cold fall and winter storms, the suf- 
fering in Florence was indescribable. 



Chapter XIX. 

Page 237 
Leaving the prison of hatred and famine as 

paroled prisoners. 



Chapter XX. 

Page 251 

A dying soldier's story; his experience with a 

madman. 



Chapter XXI. 

Pages 263-268 

Names, Company, Regiment, date of death, and 
Number of all Vermont soldiers whose re- 
mains are interred in the National Ceme- 
tery at Andersonville, Ga. 



OVER THE DEAD LINE. 
Chapter I. 

It is March, A. D. 1901. The lofty hills of the old 
Green Mountain State have not yet put off their white 
robes of frost and snow, although the sun's bright rays 
have already commenced their work of devastation upon 
the spotless garments that for months have clothed their 
fertile valleys. 

Nineteen hundred and one. Peace and Unity reign 
supreme. Moving columns of men, armed and equipped, 
huge war vessels moving from port to port, bearing thoai- 
sands of mammoth cannon and trained men, panting 
horses eager for the charge, glittering bayonets, and the sil- 
very notes of the bugle echoing o'er the tent-covered hills 
and valleys, are things of the past. 

More than a third of a century since the first shot 
echoed from the walls of Sumter. More than the aver- 
age number of years alloted to man have passed, since that 
shot proclaimed to the world that one of the greatest and 
most powerful nations of the earth, was divided against 
itself. Yes ! War was declared, the first gun fired, and 



2 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

from mansion to cabin, from metropolis to hamlet, from 
the Atlantic to the Pacific the news flashed that by trai- 
torous hands, the old flag had been ruthlessly torn from its 
proud position, to be trampled beneath the brutal foot of 
secession. 

"To arms ! To arms !" was the pass-word of every 
American patriot. We see and hear the people making 
preparations for war. We hear the appeal of the orator, 
the notes of the bugle and the din of the boisterous drums, 
mingling with the commands of officers, who are endeav- 
ouring to form and reform their inexperienced, though 
patriotic, volunteers previous to their departure for scenes 
that in after years were proudly described to their chil- 
dren and grand-children. The dim eye of the veteran 
shines, as in imagination it again flashes along the glitter- 
ing barrel of his trusty weapon, or as he exhibits the 
empty sleeve, or again relates the many thrilling experi- 
ences and startling events that emblazon the pages of 
his past history. None but those who were eye-witnesses 
and saw the young volunteer of 1861, as he marched 
])r(>udly away under the flaunting flag, keeping time to 
the wild, grand music of war — none but those who knew 
him then and now, can realize the changes that time has 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 3 

wrought. Those who participated in that hard fought 
and closely contested struggle for rights and liberty, who 
then possessed health, youth and vigor, are to-day aged 
and decrepit. The once lithesome step is now slow. We 
see the bowed form and the trembling limbs ; we see him 
wrestling with aches and pains, which remind him that 
ere long, will be mustered out, the last of those who in 
this Great Rebellion placed their all upon their country's 
altar. The past rises before him like a dream. Again 
he is in the great struggle for National life. He sees his 
countrymen as they enlist in the great army of freedom. 
He sees them part with those they love; he hears tender 
vows of affection as they lingeringly separate, perhaps 
forever. Some are bending over cradles, kissing sleep- 
ing children, while others are parting with fond mothers, 
who with maternal affection hold and press them again 
and again to their hearts, grief preventing speech. He 
sees them part : now the wife is standing at the door with 
the babe in her arms, and at the turn of the road the hus- 
band's hand is seen waving her and his child farewell. 
He goes with the husbands and fathers; he is by their 
side on the bloody fields of battle; in hospitals of pain; on 
the weary marches, and standing guard in storms and 



OVER THE DEAD LINE 



under the quiet stars. He sees them pierced by balls and 
torn by shells in the trenches, wild from thirst, the life- 
blood ebbing slowly away. 

Thousands, yes, millions of men and women are alive 
to-day, who in some way, either directly or indirectly, 
were connected with that terrible struggle, when nearly 
three million responded toi the call for true and loyal men 
to defend the Nation's Flag, and to sustain the rights of 
freedom and independence for which their ancestors so 
heroically fought. Yes, fathers, mothers and their chil- 
dren have been born since the first traitorous hand was 
raised against that emblem of freedom that our fore- 
fathers redeemed with blood and long-suffering, and 
which they swore to maintain. Many years have passed 
and gone, many winter snows and summer rains have 
fallen upon the last resting places of those who, through 
dangers seen and unseen, stood by their country's flag 
until final victory. 

And thus the writer, as one of the survivors of those 
eventful days, is reminded that this first day of March, 
A. D. nineteen hundred and one, is the anniversary of an 
"event" connected with those days of carnage and strife. 
It is an event that should be handed down from genera- 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 



tion to generation, that our posterity may be truthfully in- 
formed in regard to the terrible sufferings and privations 
of those who courageously faced danger and death that 
the Union might be preserved. 

Statistics show that 25,840 Union soldiers perished 
in Andersonville and Salisbury alone, to say nothing of 
Florence, Libby, Belle-Island and many other places 
where Union prisoners were confined, and of the many 
thousands whose iron constitutions carried them through 
the trying ordeal, but who came out physical wrecks. 

In the fall of 1865, the writer was honorably dis- 
charged from the first and only regiment of cavalry that 
was recruited from among the loyal and sturdy sons of 
the old Green Mountain State. During the four years, 
this regiment participated in many a hard fought battle. 
Seventy-five general engagements and skirmishes are 
credited to its war record from April i6th, 1862 — when 
its first charge was made upon the enemy at Mt. Jackson, 
Va. — to April 9th, 1865, at Appomatox, where it re- 
ceived, and in part executed, the last order given for a 
cavalry charge, in the army of the Potomac. 

It is upon this cold and dreary March day, the thirty- 
seventh anniversary of General Kilpatrick's famous raid, 



6 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

wherein the ist Vermont Cavalry took a prominent part, 
that I take from the dust-covered board, the worn and 
faded memorandum, that for many years has lain unmo- 
lested in the old attic chest. 

As I pause for a moment to peruse the dim lines that 
time has nearly erased, I ask myself, "Is this real ? Did 
I write these lines in such a terrible place, and while sur- 
rounded by scenes that almost baffle description?" 

Yes. Each page, grim with age, bears undisputable 
evidence of sickness, starvation and death. I am look- 
ing upon the same lines that thirty-seven years ago I 
wrote while the pangs of hunger, the ravages of disease 
and the burning rays of a southern sun were doing their 
awful work. 

I carefully lift the first tender leaf. My now im- 
paired vision rests upon the nearly obliterated words : 

March 2nd. Taken prisoner last night. I am badly 
wounded, and in Libby prison. What misery I behold." 

"March 3rd. Dick Turner, the commanding officer, 
told six of us, who were with Dahlgren's command, that 
we would be shot. We are not guilty. Have not yet had 
my wounds dressed. God help us, in this our suffering 
condition." 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 



"4th. They accuse us of murdering women and chil- 
dren. The Richmond papers call us murderers. The 
guard told us to-day that there is no hope for us." 

"5th. I asked Dick Turner for some crutches; he 
replied, 'No, you will be in h — 1 with your commanding 
officer, before you have a chance to use them'. We are 
more afraid of being lynched, than of being shot. On 
Bell-Island I found boys I knew." 

"6th. O how I suffer. If I am murdered or die, 
and this book is saved, never let it be seen by my father 
or mother. God knows I am not guilty of any crime. I 
only did a soldier's duty." 

As I glance at these minute memoranda, reading here 
and there a few words, I notice that months have passed, 
since, with a trembling hand I wrote, "Have just been 
taken prisoner. They tell me I am to be shot. I am 
badly wounded," etc., and instead of March, I see July, 
August and September. In an entry made July 24th, I 
read: 

"Another has been taken from our family — Frank 
B, Jocelyn, of our company. How poor Frank wanted 
to live. He gave me a message to carry to his widowed 
mother, should I live to go out." 



8 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

"July 26th. The members of our family, who are 
gradually growing fewer in number, to-day mourn the 
loss of another — Mlo Farnsworth. I found him dead at 
my side, at three o'clock this morning. He died between 
the hours of twelve and three." 

"July 27th. One hundred and sixty-three deaths 
during the past twenty-four hours. Report says that 
cholera is in camp. God help us if this is true." 

"28th. Two men were shot near the south gate, for 
stepping beyond the Dead Line. Capt Wirz said to-day 
that we would soon be paroled." 

"August 2nd. The heat is suffocating. I counted 
177 dead bodies at the gate, awaiting the last act of the 
drama — to be drawn away, and like dead dumb beasts, 
thrown into a trench. The stench arising from the dead 

bodies at the gate, and the excremental matter in the 
swamp, and other parts of the prison, make the air almost 
stifling." 

Such are a few of the reminiscences recorded in this 
little book, by the aid of which, I shall endeavor to por- 
tray to the reader the thrilling and heart-rendering scenes 
that came under my observation during nearly one year 
that I was confined in the Confederate prison pens of the 
South. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 



Chapter II. 

It was during the winter of 1863-4, and while the ist 
Vermont Cavalry, of which I was a member, was lying 
in winter quarters at Stevensburg, Va., that the order 
was given from the War Department, to recruit from the 
ranks, or in other words, re-enlist all three years' men 
who had already served two years of their time. The in- 
ducements held out to the men for this extra two years' 
service, were that they should receive $402 bounty, and a 
thirty days' furlough. Many accepted this offer, myself 
being one of that number. 

At the end of thirty days the veterans came strag- 
gling into camp by twos and threes, and by the 25th of 
February, the men were all back at their old quarters, and 
doing picket duty on the Rapidan river. 

It was about this time and on a clear, cold February 
morning, just as the first welcome rays of light were seen 
in the eastern horizon, that I was seated upon the back of 
my faithful old war-horse, on a lonely picket-post situ- 
ated near the summit of a hill which commanded a view 
of the Rapidan. For eight hours I had remained at my 



10 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

post, eagerly watching for any unusual move of the enemy 
on one side, and for the relief guard on the other, when 
I saw by the motions of my horse, that either friend or foe 
was in the immediate vicinity oi my post. 

Reining my horse a few feet to the rear, where the 
wide-spreading branches of a mammoth pine tree entirely 
concealed my presence, I looked at my arms, and placed 
myself in an attitude of defense. I had not long to wait, 
as in a few moments I saw two horsemen approaching 
from the direction of the reserve post, and just as I gave 
the usual challenge of "Halt ! Who goes there?" I discov- 
ered that it was two men from my own company, a Cor- 
poral and a new recruit, one of those who are enlisted to 
fill the ranks or places of those who have been killed or 
discharged. The Corporal had orders for me to report 
to my Company Headquarters at once, and the recruit was 
to take my place upon the picket-line. As I passed the 
reserve post on my way to camp, I was told by the officer 
in charge, that the cause of my not being relieved through 
the night, was, that the stars and moon shone so brightly, 
he did not think it advisable tO' move men along the side 
of the hill, as they could be seen by the enemy just across 
the river, therefore they could locate my post. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS ^ 

Arriving at camp, I received orders to be ready to 
march at a moment's notice; also an order was given for 
each man to draw three days' rations, and sixty rounds 
of ammunition. We had worn Uncle Sam's uniform long 
enough to learn that a moment's notice might mean thirty 
days or it might mean thirty hours, but the three days' ra- 
tions, and sixty rounds of ammunition meant business in 
the near future. 

All day, men could be seen congregated in small 
parties, eagerly discussing the probabilities of our intended 
move. Officers were hurrying to and fro, and in low 
tones giving orders, and answering the many inquiries 
in regard to our probable destination and invariably the 
answers were, "We know nothing about it." 

Many of the boys wrote letters home, sending money 
or any article of value that they did not wish to have with 
them, should an engagement or a raid occur. 

All that day, — February 26th, 1864, — the men were 
getting ready, for — they knew not what. All preparations 
were made as quietly as possible; no loud orders were 
given. Our winter quarters were left standing ; and those 
who were excused from duty by the Doctor, and some of 
the new recruits, were to occupy them until the company 



12 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

returned. None but veterans were to go, so we did not 
consider this would be a pleasure party by any means. 

About sunset that night, our horses were saddled and 
bridled; the men with overcoats on, with sabres and re- 
volvers hanging to their belts, walked up and down the 
company streets, talking in low tones. 

No bugle sounded, but as daylight disappeared, and 
the shades of night brought out more prominently the 
many camp-fires that bespeak the intense darkness so soon 
to come upon us, each soldier distinctly heard the com- 
mand, though in a low tone of voice, "Lead into line! 
Right dress ! Number by fours ! By fours ! Right wheel ! 
Forward, march !" and Kilpatrick's famous cavalry raid 
around Richmond had begun. 

The objects of this raid were the liberation of the 
Union prisoners in that city; also the destruction of mills 
and army stores; the capture of the reserve artillery at 
Frederick's Hall Station, and the Virginia Railroad, and 
the distribution of President Lincoln's Amnesty Procla- 
mation. 

Kilpatrick started with six regiments of cavalry, con- 
sisting of some 4,000 men. The young and daring 
Colonel Dahlgren, who was Kilpatrick's second in this 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 13 

enterprise, commanded a body of some four hundred men, 
consisting of detachments from the ist Vermont, 2nd and 
5th New York, ist Maine, and 5th Michigan cavalry. 

All night we marched through the rain and mud, 
and the following morning we were fairly in the rear of 
Lee's army. We were entirely cut off from all communi- 
cation with our army ; we had captured the enemy's picket- 
post, and no longer was our destination a secret. Soon 
after daylight, a halt was made long enough to feed our 
horses, then up and on to Richmond ; tearing up railroad 
tracks, destroying telegraph lines, burning bridges, and 
makinggeneraldestruction,aswe advanced. The men were 
ordered to molest no one who did not molest them, and to 
enter no private dwelling. Most of the time during that 
long-to-be-remembered ride, the rain fell in torrents, ren- 
dering the roads almost impassable. 

Colonel Dahlgren and his command fell into ambush, 
and he was killed, sixteen bullets passing through his head 
and body. His command became separated and the Ver- 
mont boys joined Kilpatrick's forces near Richmond. This 
was on March ist, and during the afternoon of that day, 
Kilpatrick's men were drawn up in line before the fortifi- 



14 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

cations at Richmond on the Brook turnpike, three and a 
half miles north of the city. 

Judging the capture of Richmond to be impossible, 
Kilpatrick decided to move around the city and join Gen- 
eral Butler at Yorktown. At 4 P. M. the column started, 
and after destroying two miles of the Fredericksburg 
railroad, moved on to Mechanicsville, six miles from 
Richmond. 

Here, after destroying the railroad buildings and cut- 
ting the track, the men got an hour's rest. It was just 
after dark, when we turned ofif from the turnpike, and our 
regiment entered a small piece of pine woods. As soon 
as a halt was made, and our horses picketed, many of the 
men camped down at once. Both men and horses were 
suffering from want of food and rest; all the sleep that 
we had obtained during the past forty-eight hours, was 
while riding in the ranks with our heads resting upon the 
blankets that were rolled and strapped to the front of our 
saddles. 

Comrade Horace B. Stetson and myself were tent- 
mates at the time, and while I was loosening the saddle- 
girths, and caring for our horses. Stetson spread out our 
wet blankets, and made us as comfortable a bed as he 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 15 

could under the circumstances, as it was raining and 
snowing at the time. Our rubber blankets, however, par- 
tially protected us from the storm, and we were soon fast 
asleep. At 10.30, I was awakened by the report of ar- 
tillery, immediately followed by the crashing of solid 
shot and shell through the tree-tops. At the report of 
the first gun, the bugle sounded "To horse!" and those 
who had not camped down for a little rest, and were run- 
ning the risk of losing the much-needed sleep, in ex- 
change for a cup of hot coffee, had a little advantage of 
those who were fast asleep; the latter springing from 
their beds in a bewildered state, scarcely knowing where 
they were. Small campnfires were shining all through 
the woods, and as we entered after dark, knowing noth- 
ing of the lay of the ground, neither the points of the 
compass, and the dazzling camp-fires threw many of the 
men, especially those who were suddenly awakened, into 
a bewildered condition; it often happened that if one 
moved a few feet from his own quarters, he was com- 
pletely lost, or "turned around." As the sound of the 
first gim startled me, I sprang from my bed, and shouted 
to my comrade, who slept more soundly than myself, to 
turn out, that the enemy had opened fire upon us. I then 



16 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

looked for my horse, and after two or three minutes found 
him in almost an opposite direction from where I sup- 
posed I had left him. I was not long in arranging my 
saddle and bridle, and making a charge for the bed to 
secure my blankets, I was somewhat surprised to find my 
bed-fellow. Stetson, still quietly sleeping. I caught him 
by the foot and pulling him out of the bed,I again shouted 
that the Rebs. were shelling the camp. 

This time he spoke, and proceeded to instill into 
my mind the contempt he felt for my self-imagined cun- 
ning, and that if I did not wish to sleep myself, I might 
allow others to do so. 

"Boom! Boom!" again rang out the Rebel gun, im- 
mediately followed by the bursting of a shell, which cut 
short poor chummy's scolding, and springing back into 
his bed upon his hands and knees, he threw the things 
right and left in searching for his cap, as he excitedly 
asked : "Why in thunder didn't you wake me up?" 

By this time the rebels had advanced to the edge of 
the woods, and soon a scattering fire of musketry com- 
menced along the out-skirts. Lieut. Col. Preston, of the 
ist Vermont, gave the order for his men to fall in on foot, 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 17 

and soon quite a line of battle was formed between our 
horses and the enemy. 

Thus far the enemy appeared to have everything 
about their own way, and most likely they mistook our 
silence for a preparation to retreat, but when our regiment 
opened fire with their Spencer carbines, they appeared 
somewhat surprised, and for a time their firing ceased 
altogether. After we had fired eight or ten rounds, in 
rapid succession, the order was given by Col, Preston, 
"Every man to his horse, and lead into line in the open 
field to the rear!" 

This was the last order or command I ever heard 
from this brave and noble young officer, as he was killed 
on the 3rd of the following June. 

While we were on the firing line, my horse escaped, 
or was by mistake taken by some one else; I never knew 
which, for I never saw him again. Anxiously going 
through the company, making inquiries from man to man, 
and from company to company, I heard some one a little 
distance away cry out, ''Who wants a horse?" Hurrying 
as fast as I could to the spot where I had heard this ques- 
tion asked, I found an officer sitting upon his horse and 

2 



18 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

holding another by the bridle. He was a Colonel or a 
Lieutenant-Colonel, belonging to our brigade, and said 
his servant, a colored boy, who rode this horse, had been 
killed or taken prisoner, or had run away. After telling 
him to what regiment I belonged, he said I might take 
this horse till he called for it. I was very thankful for 
this kind act, and assuring the Colonel I would return 
the animal at any time after the skirmish was over, I 
mounted and galloped away in the direction of my regi- 
ment. The stirrup straps to my saddle were very short, 
and in my haste to rejoin my command, I had not taken 
time to lengthen them, and was thinking of doing so, when 
a shell from the enemy exploded near, causing the already 
excited horse to turn suddenly to one side, throwing me 
heavily to the ground. I was somewhat bruised by the 
fall, but gained my feet, and saw, by the dim light of the 
camp-fires, the horse of which I stood in so much need, 
disappear in the darkness. 

A few moment's walk brought me to my regiment, 
which had just commenced to break off from the right by 
fours. I was anxiously looking and enquiring from one 
to the other, for a horse without a rider, when some one 
shouted from the front: "Say, there, you fellow who 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 19 

wants a horse, there are two horses back in the wood from 
which we came." Of course I ran great risk in doing so, 
but at once started for the place indicated, and was soon 
stumbhng over sticks, stones, and stumps, as I hastened 
from one dark object tO' another, in my endeavor to ob- 
tain the horse, and escape from the woods before the 
enemy should ascertain our movements. I entered the 
thicket as near as possible tO' where our company had 
camped, which was some twenty or thirty rods distant 
from the place whence I started upon this errand of such 
great importance to myself. I could hear the enemy 
cheering upon the opposite side of the woods, and I well 
knew that what was to be done, must be done quickly. I 
was about to give up, and return to my company, when to 
my joy and surprise, I espied the two horses standing 
within a few feet of each other. The first I came upon 
was a small black horse, one that was used as a pack 
horse to carry small articles, and evidently had been left, 
as he was tired out. Another stood near, and I almost 
cried with joy, when I discovered what I took to be my 
own faithful old "Blaze," as I called him; this horse, 
however, did not act like him, as he reared and plunged 
in a way that made it almost impossible for me to hold 



20 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

him, or place my foot in the stirrup. It was during these 
efforts that I discovered the horse was not my own, but 
he looked so much like him, that in all probability mine 
was taken for him. Although this mistake caused me 
indescribable suffering, nearly costing me my life, I can- 
not say the blame rests upon any one. 

I will for a moment leave my perilous situation to the 
imagination of the reader. Here was a dilemma from 
which the wealth of the Rosthchilds, or the influence and 
power of a monarch, could not extricate me. My life 
depended, as it were, for a few moments on the obedience 
of a horse. It is said by people who have narrowly es- 
caped death after fully expecting it, that during an al- 
most inconceivably short space of time, many past events 
of one's life are recalled to mind ; and thus it was with me. 
During the fractional part of a minute that I so earnestly 
endeavored to calm that enraged and frightened animal, 
all the horrors of Libby, Castle Thunder, and Bell Island 
passed through my mind with the rapidity of lightning. 
Oh for a few moments of precious time ! Seconds seemed 
minutes as I struggled for the mastery of the maddened 
brute. Fearing the reader may ask why I did not aban- 
don the hope of aid from the horse and try to escape on 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS iii 



foot, I will say that for a pedestrian to keep up with a 
raiding party of horsemen, especially in the night, would 
be almost an impossibility. 

With a howl like that of wild beasts, the enemy 
charged into the woods. I endeavored to mount without 
the assistance of the stirrup, but in this I failed, as the 
horse would go from under me before I could gain an up- 
right position in my saddle. I well knew that my es- 
cape, if not my life, depended upon this horse, and so 
earnestly was I engaged that I did not consider how 
closely they were upon me, and just as I was hanging to 
the side of my horse, with my right leg hooked around 
the back of my saddle, I received a fearful sabre cut from 
the hand of a rebel horseman, who suddenly appeared 
upon the spot and leaning forward in his saddle, said: 
"Surrender, you d — d Yankee!" at the same time deahng 
me a blow that nearly severed the heel from my foot. 

By this time I had gained an upright position in the 
saddle, and while this rebel cavalryman was trying his 
best to cripple me, and had succeeded in giving me another 
slight wound in my left arm by a sabre thrust, I man- 
aged to draw my sabre — my revolver being empty — and 
placed myself in an attitude of defence, just as my would- 



22 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

be slayer put spurs to his horse and disappeared in the 
darkness. 

And now hundreds of rebel cavalrymen passed me, 
charging with a yell through the woods. I could not 
understand why my opponent left me so suddenly, unless 
he thought when I drew my sabre I was drawing a re- 
volver, as it was quite dark at the time. 

All of a sudden my horse became quiet, ceasing to 
rear, jump, and turn; and just as I began to cherish the 
hope of my possible escape, I felt a tremuloiis motion of 
the animal's body, and the terrible reality flashed upon 
me that my horse was shot. My equipment so encum- 
bered me that before I could dismount, the wounded an- 
imal staggered and fell to the ground. So suddenly did 
he fall, that my wounded limb lay under him, and although 
the time seemed much longer, it was probably little more 
than an hour that I lay bound to the earth by the dead 
weight of a ten hundred pound horse. During the death- 
struggle Oif the poor animal I cherished a faint hope that 
he might change his position sufficiently to allow me to 
extricate myself from my painful position. Although 
each motion of the struggling animal caused me intense 
pain it was welcome compared with the terrible possibility 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 23 

of remaining in that position for an indefinite time with no 
possible way of escape, coupled with the thought that I 
was slowly bleeding to death. 

Again and again I cried for help, each time the echo 
of my voice in the surrounding wood seeming to mock 
me as it mingled with the victorious yell oi the enemy. I 
say victorious as in all probability they would have con- 
sidered it a victory had not a gun been fired, sO' long as 
the Union forces turned their backs upon the Confederate 
capital, that twenty-four hours before they had considered 
lying wholly at the mercy of the Union troops. 

My horse had ceased its death-struggles, and his 
dead body was lying on my wounded leg; my knee was 
also badly injured by the fall. 



24 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



Chapter III. 

Our soldiers had gone ; no- rebels in sight or hearing, 
and all was quiet except an occasional report of a musket, 
or the distant barking of a watch-dog, and this upon the 
same ground where all was strife and excitement so short 
a time before. The pain in my injured limb was terrible, 
and the perspiration streamed from my face during my 
unsuccessful attempts to regain my liberty. 

With a small knife that I carried in my pocket I tried 
to cut away a part of the horse's body that bore so heavily 
upon my limb. But in this I failed, as my position — ly- 
ing on my right side — prevented me from doing so. One 
more chance presented itself to view, and in this I was 
successful. With my hand I commenced digging the 
earth from under my wounded limb, and I can assure you 
dear reader that never did I labor under more painful and 
discouraging circumstances, than I did during the hour 
I worked for my life. 

I had overcome one difficulty, although my prospects 
were anything but enlivening, when I found myself sit- 
ting beside my dead horse, my clothing wet through by 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 25 



the snow and rain, badly wounded, and my finger-nails 
nearly torn from my hand by digging the roots and hard 
earth, from under my imprisoned limb. Alone, and in 
the enemy's land; and I thought, as many, many a young 
man had, when lying wounded upon the battle field, of 
what mv almost broken hearted mother said, as she bade 
her seventeen year old boy good bye, when he so cheer- 
fully and thoughtlessly entered upon the ever-changing 
scenes of war, "God bless and protect you. my boy; Oh 
how I shall see you in my dreams lying wounded upon the 
battle-field. Remember, my son, that should it thus be, 
you can not call upon your father and mother for help, 
but you can call upon your God." 

All these thoughts came to my mind, and as I had 
already learned that "the inevitable strengthens courage," 
and that "necessity is the mother of invention," I went 
to work. With a large cotton handkerchief, and a part 
of my coat-lining, I dressed my wounded foot as well as I 
could under the circumstances, it being very dark, and 
the rain and snow falling fast. I tested my strength by 
lifting small stones, breaking sticks, etc., fearing I was 
growing weak from the loss of blood. Being satisfied 
that the flow of blood was subsiding, I prepared to leave 



26 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

the place, as my body was being chilled through by the 
cold. I obtained a narrow piece of board from the wood 
that some of the boys had collected, and using it for a 
crutch, and a small stick for a cane, I hobbled away in 
the direction of — I knew not where. As I passed the 
little played-out pack-horse, I cut his halter, and as I saw 
the little shivering discarded animal stagger away in the 
darkness, I thought he would most likely fall into better 
hands than I should. I then passed out of the woods, 
and in the direction that our men had taken, crossing the 
ground where they had formed in line just previous to 
their departure. I entered another piece of woods, and 
here my strength partially gave out, and I lay down be- 
side a large rock or bowlder, thinking I would remain 
there till daylight. I remained in that place an hour or 
so, when my wet clothing began to freeze. The rain and 
snow had ceased to fall, and the weather was growing 
colder. I reasoned that to remain here would mean chill- 
ing to death, and to escape capture in the condition I was 
in, was impossible. I thus reflected upon my sad and 
painful condition, and having no cartridges for my car- 
bine, I laid it beside the rock with my sabre, and covering 
them with dirt and leaves, left them. I moved on just 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 27 

fast enough to keep from being chilled through, and was 
probably suffering more excruciating pain than I had 
ever suffered before, when a summons : "Halt ! Who 
comes there?" was given a few rods in front, and I re- 
turned the usual answer, "A friend." 

The question was then asked, "What regiment?" I 
quickly answered, "ist Vermont; of what regiment are 
you?" I asked, thinking the voice was that of a North- 
erner; "ist Alabama. Hold up your hands!" was the 
reply. 

If I had possessed the use of my legs, I would have 
cared little for their challenge, but as it was, I was wholly 
at their mercy, and little of this did I, as a cavalry rider, 
expect at their hands. 

We had of late heard much of the terrible suffering 
and death of our men who had fahen into the enemy's 
hands as prisoners of war. 

Stooping down so as to bring my head nearer the 
ground, I could see outlined against the sky, the form.s 
of mounted men deployed as skirmishers. 

Again the order, "Hold up your hands and advance !" 
was given by OTie of the men before me, and at the sam.e 
time the sharp report of a carbine in the hands of one of 



28 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

the skirmishers, rang out upon the night air. "Cease 
firing," was the stern command of an officer in charge. 

This order from one in authority, gave me momen- 
tary rehef, as I believed when I heard that shot, that my 
time had come, and that they would shoot me on the spot; 
but I soon felt assured that it was through excitement 
that the shot was fired, for when I called out the name of 
my regiment, they did not know but that I might be one 
of the advance of an attacking party. 

The second time I was ordered to hold up, I replied : 
'*I am wounded, and will surrender, but I cannot hold up 
my hands, as I am leaning on a stick for support." 

Knowing that escape was impossible, I stood for a 
few moments as if paralyzed before I could move, while 
panoramic scenes of sickness, starvation, and death, stood 
out in bold relief before me. 

I advanced to within a few feet of the line, when two 
horsemen rode up, and wheeling their horses one on each 
side of me, ordered me to drop my sticks, and with each 
hand to grasp their saddles, and to hold on firmly. I 
obeyed the command, and they started their horses into 
a brisk trot. My wounded foot and knee had become so 
sore I could not bear my weight upon it, consequently I 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 29 

relaxed my hold upon their saddles, and fell to the ground, 
whereupon one of my escorts kindly informed me tliat if 
I commenced any of my Yankee tricks he would proceed 
to make a lead-mine of my d — d Yankee body. Fearing 
he would carry out his cowardly threat, I exerted myself 
to the utmost, and although my sufferings were terrible, I 
regained my feet and then said : "You have the power to 
shoot a defenceless prisoner, but I trust you have no man 
in your army that would stoop to such barbarous and cruel 
work. At least, we have heard that you treated your 
prisoners of war kindly." 

This bit of falsehood and flattery had the desired 
effect; at least upon one of them, for after I liad explained 
to them that I was badly wounded, and weak from the 
loss of blood, but would do my best to wall:, if the dis- 
tance was not far and they would go slowly, he said : "My 
comrade won't hurt ye I reckon; he thought perhaps you 
uns was play in' off on us, and would try to get away."' 

As we resumed our march, they appeared to be more 
friendly, going sO' far as almost to warrant that I vvould 
not be hung, but would be used like other prisoners of 
war. 



30 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

We moved slowly along for perhaps an eighth of a 
mile, and halted at an old blacksmith shop, where the two 
men dismounted, and one of them took me by the arm 
and led me inside. As the rebel soldier and I were seated 
upon a couple of nail kegs, at one end of the room, I saw 
several rebel officers gathered around a blazing fire in an 
old-fashioned fire-place, at the other end of this capacious, 
though dirty, apartment, earnestly engaged in conversa- 
tion. 

They did not seem to notice us, as we entered, and I 
soon became interested in their conversation, which would 
almost lead one, situated as I was, to believe he was the 
only survivor of the whole Union army. There were ten 
or twelve of these officers, most of them quite young, 
ranking from Second Lieutenant to Colonel, and all cav- 
alry officers. As these young men warmed themselves 
and dried their clothing by the fire, each in turn related the 
many daring deeds he had performed, and how the black 
abolitionists had suffered at his hand. 

While listening to this conversation, I heard an 
officer, whom I took to be a Colonel, say to the rest that 
he would give a good deal for a cup of hot cofifee ; where- 
upon, I made the proposition that if he would allow me to 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 31 



sit up to the fire and warm myself, I would furnish him 
the coffee. As I spoke, they all turned to look at me, and 
one of them, who appeared to be the superior officer, said : 
"Aha, whom have we here? A Yank?" 

The guard who sat by me, answering in the affirm- 
ative, the officer replied: "Certainly, certainly; sit right 
up here my man, and warm yourself." 

As the guard assisted me to the fire, they made room 
for me, and one of them said : 

"Well, Yank, have you been collecting up a little 
Confederate lead?" 

I had two or three pounds of sugar and coffee mixed 
together in my haversack, and as I reached it to the man 
who had spoken about it, and told him to help himself, he 
took out a small amount, and handing it back to me said : 

"Yank, you must not be too free with your coffee, for 
it may be a long time before you will get any more." 

These men were gentlemanly appearing; they used 
me well, took nothing from me, and one gave me bandage, 
and offered to help dress my wound, but I concluded to 
let it remain as it was until morning, thinking I might 
obtain the assistance of the rebel doctors in Richmond. 
After I had thoroughly warmed myself, and had answered 



32 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

the many questions which in a joking way they had asked 
me, such as, "What is old Abe doing now days?" "If you 
had taken Richmond, were you intending to reside there?" 
etc., etc., and after I had done my best to reply in the 
same vain and nonsensical manner, I was told that there 
was a horse at the door for me to ride, and that a couple 
of their soldiers would conduct me to where the rest of 
the prisoners were. Believing myself to be the only pris- 
oner taken that night, I was somewhat surprised at this 
declaration, and turning to the commanding officer, I 
asked : 

"Have you captured other prisoners, to-night?" 
"Certainly, my Yankee friend," he laughingly re- 
plied, "you fellows are anxious to get into Richmond, so 
we are giving you all the assistance we can. Most of 
your raiding party is in camp, about a mile from here, and 
some of our Confederate soldiers are entertaining them, 
and in the early morning will conduct them into the city. 
There were a few who did not accept our invitation, that 
have returned." 

These remarks were followed by a loud laugh from 
all. and wishing to give them a parting shot, I replied, as 
they assisted me to mount the horse : 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 33 

"President Lincoln will chastise those fellows for re- 
turning before they looked over your city; consequently, 
you may look for their return in the near future, and their 
friends with them. Look out for them." 

"Goodbye Yank, you will take Richmond in the 
morning; keep your courage up; and by this time, the 
two guards who went with me, and myself, were getting 
too far away to hear them, and I neither saw nor heard 
anything more of these men. 

In a little clearing in the pine woods, we found about 
forty prisoners. Among them was the young negro of 
whom the Colonel had spoken, as being killed or captured, 
when the enemy first opened fire upon us that evening. 
There were about as many horses captured as there were 
men. The men were gathered around a blazing logheap, 
and about twenty-five or thirty guards (cavalrymen) 
were guarding them. Some of the guards were interest- 
ing themselves with the young negro, asking him all kinds 
of questions, and telling him how he would "pick cotton 
down in old Kentucky," during the coming season. 

It was nearly daylight when we arrived there. A 
rebel Sergeant loaned me his blanket, and I got about an 

3 



34: OVER THE DEAD LINE 

hour's broken sleep before we started for Richmond. We 
were mounted upon the captured horses, and under a 
heavy guard, proceeded on our way towards the Rebel 
Capital. The distance being about eight miles, it was 
about n A. M. when we entered the city. Great excite- 
ment and consternation prevailed; the streets were 
thronged with men, women and children; the former 
eagerly discussing the probability of the total annihila- 
tion of the Confederate Capital, should the dreaded Yanks 
enter the city, while the later, in juvenile ecstacy, pro- 
claimed to the anxious and fear-stricken pedestrians what 
terrible things they had heard and seen during the past 
forty-eight hours, and especially during the past ten or 
fifteen, while the Yankees were almost in the out-skirts 
of the city. 

But as our dejected and tired little band, many of 
us besmeared with mud and blood, entered the city and 
marched down the street in single file, with a strong guard 
on either side, there looked to be more men than there 
really were, and instantly the fear, dread and anxiety of 
the people, who believed that nearly all of the Yankee 
raiders had been captured, gave way to joy, hilarity, and 
a desire for revenge. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 35 

The men who were with us as our guards, were old 
soldiers; they knew how to use a prisoner, and for this 
we were very thankful, for had our escorts been as blood- 
thirsty and revengeful as were the people who gathered 
around us in the streets of Richmond, and had there been 
nothing to oppose them, it is doubtful if there would have 
been a man left to tell the story. 

They heaped upon us all the abuse artd insults they 
were capable of doing. Objects were thrown from win- 
dows and doors in to the rank. Women would stand in 
their door-ways, and even on the side-walks, calling names 
and using insulting and profane language. Small boys 
who would shout the name of the Libby Hotel ; 

"Free carriage to the Libby Hotel ! Right this way 
to thejvibby !" was again and again shouted in our ears. 

"Grace God, Captain, have you got the whole Yankee 
army?" cried one old lady, from a second-story window, 
to the Sergeant who had charge of the prisoners; while 
another said in a sneering and mocking way, "You blue- 
bellied Yankees, you have taken Richmond at last, haven't 
you?" 

Such were the expressions of many of these people, 
as we waited for an hour or two outside of Castle Thun- 



36 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

der, previous to our first introduction to the art of rebel 
cruelties. 

We stopped but a few hours in Castle Thunder (an 
old slave pen), and then we moved to the Pemberton 
Building. This building was made of brick ; it was three 
stories high, and I should think it was 75 or 100 feet 
long. It was formerly an old tobacco warehouse; the 
great iron tobacco presses stood as dark and silent sen- 
tinels, having witnessed the transformation of hundreds 
of brave Union soldiers from physical perfection to totter- 
ing and emaciated forms. 

Here we were installed for an indefinite time upon the 
second floor. I failed to mention that when I came up to 
the rest of the prisoners that morning, I found two of my 
own company — Milo Farnsworth and Frank B. Jocelyn. 
These men assisted me into the building and up the stairs; 
here we were all ordered into one end of the room. A 
stand and a few chairs were brought and placed about the 
middle of the apartment. Three or four officers came in 
and seated themselves by the stand, and one man at a 
time was called up and searched, and passed on to the 
other end of the room. In this way they could get nearly 
all we had, as we were unable to help each other. Our 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 3T 

money, watches, knives and overcoats and boots (if 
good) were taken from us. I had $8.00 in silver and five 
dollars in greenbacks in a leather belt that I wore around 
my body, also a twenty dollar greenback note which I had 
m my mouth when I was searched. Finding the five dol- 
lar bill and the sixteen silver half-dollars (that I bought 
in Canada two weeks before), they appeared to be well 
pleased and searched me no further. 

As each man was searched he was asked to what 
command he belonged. Now, as I was in Col. Dahlgren's 
command the first two days of the raid, or until his death, 
and thinking that perhaps they knew nothing about him 
and his military career, and that they would not look 
upon me with such hatred as they would those who were 
under Kilpatrick, whom they feared and disliked, I re- 
plied that I was with Col. Dahlgren. 

Although this was the truth, I made a great mistake, 
when I mentioned his name, as I soon found out that 
some of the Confederates had met him before, and that 
his prowess as a dashing cavalry raider had not met with 
their approbation. This was conspicuously apparent in 
every word, act and look of these men, especially in those 
of the dreaded Dick Turner, who was in command at the 



38 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

time. His fiendish countenance lightened up with a 
glow of unmistakable satisfaction, as with a terrible oath 
he ordered me to step one side, and remain there till they 
got through. My wounded foot and knee had become so 
sore I could not bear any part of my weight upon it, and 
with but a single crutch that one of the old prisoners gave 
me, and which was too short for me, it was with difficulty 
I moved arouod. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS :'.9 



Chaptkr IV. 

For about an hour I was kept standing or sitting at 
one side of the room, before they finished what they called 
"examination," but which we called "robbery." During 
that time five others took their places beside me, and all 
as ignorant of why they were separated from their com- 
rades, as I was myself. These men belonged to two or 
three different regiments, and by inquiry, I found that 
they had all belonged to Dahlgren's command. 

Now, were we to be treated better than the rest of 
the captured, or were we to be hanged? This was the 
question we asked each other, and which was yet to be 
solved. We were told not to mingle with the rest of the 
prisoners, but to keep by ourselves, at one end of the 
room. We reasoned that the object in doing this, was 
simply so that they could find us readily and not be obliged 
to have the men fall into line in order to find the same 
men again. Soon, others prisoners were put into the 
room, and we had a hundred and fifty men on the floor. 

When Dick Turner came around and stood looking 
us over, one of the boys ventured to ask him why we were 



40 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

sq)arated from the others, he replied that the rest of the 
d — d Yankee cut-throats were not going to be hanged 
just yet. 

Although the rest of the prisoners were informed that 
Dahlgren's men were to be executed, we paid but little 
attention to the report, and looked upon it as a revenge- 
ful threat, until the following day, when we were in- 
formed by an item in the Richmond papers, that a noto- 
rious character by the name of Dahlgren, who commanded 
a gang of Yankee cut-throats and murderers, had been 
shot, and that six of his desperadoes, who, for the last 
three days had been amusing themselves by burning 
buildings and murdering defenceless women and children, 
had been captured. When Dick Turner made his rounds 
the following morning, swearing at, and kicking any sick 
or lame prisoner who chanced to be in his way, I asked 
him if he would furnish me with a pair of crutches. The 
words were scarcely out of my mouth, when with a fear- 
ful oath he growled, "No, you will be in h — 1 with your 
commanding officer before you will have a chance to use 
them." 

The weather was quite cool on the 3rd, and the old 
prisoners begged of the guards and non-commissioned 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS il 



officers, to bring them up some wood. The new prison- 
ers knew that it would be useless to ask, but finally a 
colored man brought up an armful of wood and threw it 
down upon the floor. One of the new prisoners stood 
near, and as the negro threw it down, the soldier slapped 
him on the back, and said, "Bully for you, uncle." 

lie had no sooner said the words, than a rebel Ser- 
geant whom the prisoners called the "kicking Sergeant," 
dealt the young man a blow in the face that felled him 
to the floor. This brutal act not seeming to satisfy the 
ruffian, he kicked him several times, saying, "I will learn 
you to make friends with a d — d nigger." 

One of the old prisoners gave me a pair of crutches, 
but I could find no doctor to dress my wounds. 

The morning of the fourth, I saw another notice in 
the Richmond, daily, "Inquirer," I think the paper was 
called, that the six Yankee outlaws would be hanged; 
there was no hope for them, as they had confessed that 
they were with Dahlgren, no trial would be given them. 
The paper went on to say : "If Beast Butler should swing 
when we do^ get him, why shouldn't these murderers, who 
have been taken red-handed in their brutal work, swing, 
now that we have got them?" 



42 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

One or two of these men who were receiving such 
marked attention, seemed to worry a good deal about it, 
while others made light of it. Speaking for myself, I 
will say that I had not an atom of fear that the rebel mil- 
itary authorities would carry out their cowardly threat; 
but I was in constant fear that their false reports would 
so agitate and excite the people who had already nerved 
themselves up to a state bordering upon insanity, that 
they would be ready and willing participants in any act 
of violence the military officials in their imaginary great- 
ness might suggest. Therefore, I did not feel that we 
were safe for a moment. Any unusual noise among the 
soldiers, or upon the streets, and I would hasten to write 
a few words in my diary, thinking perhaps they would be 
my last. 

It was during the fourth day of our captivity that I 
said to my comrades in suspense : 

"Boys, I for one, propose to lie no longer like a sheep 
before his shearer, and say not a word in our own de- 
fence, and not even deny this false accusation they bring 
against us ; therefore I shall ask Lieut. Turner to hear 
me, when he comes around again." 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 4:8 

"Don't stand in front of me when you speak to him, 
for he will open pan upon you instantly," was the laugh- 
ing remark of one. 

"You had better wait till just before we are hanged," 
said another poor fellow, whom we afterward heard was 
shot for retaliation. 

We had not finished our conversation upon the sub- 
ject, when we saw Turner coming toward us. As he 
came near, I arose to my feet, and saluting him, said : 
"Lieutenant, may I speak to you a few minutes?" 

"I don't care a d — n who you speak to," was the 
response; but as he did not move away, thinking per- 
haps that I might say something to convict ourselves, I 
hastened to make the following appeal to him : 

"Lieutenant Turner, you have us in your power, and 
our lives are in your hands. You say we are cut-throats 
and murderers, that we have murdered innocent women 
and children, and must now pay the penalty with our 
lives. I speak for my comrades here, as well as for my- 
self. We have committed no crime. We have done our 
duty as soldiers and nothing more. I never saw Col. 
Dahlgren till we started on this raid. He had four him- 
dred men in his command, and they all belonged to dif- 



44 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

ferent regiments. When we started, he said to us, 'Men, 
my command is small, and I want every man to keep his 
place. Don't leave the ranks, or go into any house. Do 
not molest any private property, or speak to any man, 
woman or child along the route. I want you strictly to 
obey these orders, and any man doing otherwise will be 
punished severely.' We obeyed these orders to the let- 
ter, and when Col. Dahlgren was killed, his commaand 
became separated and part of them joined the main 
column under General Kilpatrick the following day. These 
men and myself were among that number, and were taken 
prisoners that night. If we are to be shot down like dogs, 
or lose our lives by an infuriated, misinformed mob, and 
that for coming into your lines, or on to your territory 
on a cavalry raid, then every one of your men who came 
into Maryland and Pennsylvania eight months ago and 
participated in the battle of Gettysburg, Pa., and fell into 
our hands as prisoners of war, should fare the same fate. 
Thousands of Union men lost their lives by Gen. Lee's 
raid into Pennsylvania, and I have not heard, thus far, 
that one Confederate soldier has lost his life by this raid." 
By this time Turner was moving away, and I never 
heard whether my little speech did good or harm. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 45 



Just before dark that night, all the raiders were 
moved across the way to the Libby, there we remained 
till the following day about three o'clock, and we were 
then removed to Belle Island, which is in the James 
river, nearly opposite the city. The Island comprises 
about nine acres, and three acres are surrounded by a 
breastwork some three feet in height. 

This piece of ground was covered with old, dirty, 
Sybley tents, nearly as black as smoke and dirt could 
make them. They were crowded with prisoners who 
had been confined here and in other prisons from one to 
eighteen months. Here I met with three or four of my 
own company; among them was George Hull, who lived 
neighbour to me in Fairfield, Vt., and was my tent-mate 
at the time of his capture at Brandy Station, October 
nth, 1863. The sight of these starved, sick, dirty and 
emaciated human beings was enough to dishearten the 
bravest of the brave. Here, men who but a few months 
before, had possessed health, strength, courage and all 
things else that go to make the true American soldier, 
were now seen staggering from their filthy quarters, cov- 
ered with rags and vermin. As we entered the camp my 
five comrades and I were told to occupy one of the old 



46 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

ragged tents at one end of the camp, and not to mix with 
the rest of the prisoners, saying it would go hard with us 
if we were found in some other part when they called for 
us. We had nearly made up our minds that these threats 
were for punishment, and that there was not so much dan- 
ger of mob law as there was while we were in the city. 
We reasoned that they would heap upon us all the abuse 
and indignity they could, and still keep themselves within 
the bounds of civilized warfare. They dare not kill us, 
but as we were raiders and had caused them to suffer, 
they proposed to retaliate in every way possible, and make 
it just as uncomfortable for us as they were able. We 
cared but little for their orders to remain in our tents, 
and no sooner were their backs turned, than we were 
searching for acquaintances among the dejected looking 
throng that rebel cruelty had made almost unrecogniza- 
ble. My friend Hull, who' enlisted at the same time and 
in the same company that I did, at once began telling me 
of what he had heard in regard to the six men who were 
in Dahlgren's detachment and were going to be hanged 
or shot. He said : 

"Now do you know who these men are, and why 
they were selected from Dahlgren's command?" I 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS ^7 



answered his last question first, and when later I informed 
him that I was one of the unfortunate men, I well knew 
that I had one sympathetic and true friend in this, the 
hour of need, for he immediately began planning some 
mode of escape. He informed me that the following day 
four hundred prisoners were going to leave the Island. 
Their destination was unknown to all, except the officers 
in command. He said that two days before our arrival 
a man by the name of Sybley had died, and they had not 
reported his death as they w'ere drawing his rations. This 
dead man was a New York soldier and belonged to the 
same mess that my friend Hull belonged to, also to the 
same four hundred that were going away. 

"Now," says he, "if the Johnnies do not find this 
out before we leave the city, we can disguise you as an 
old prisoner, and you can answer to the name of Sybley 
and get away either to another prison or home." This 
being our decision, we at once arranged for my disguise. 

This very important part of the arrangement was 
made by Comrade Hull, .assisted by one or two others 
who belonged to the same hundred, and were among those 
to leave the Island the following day. As I have before 
mentioned, all my clothing had been taken from me ex- 



48 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

cept my pants and shirt, and an old, tunnel-shaped, 
coarse wool hat that a sympathetic Johnny had given me 
in exchange for a four dollar hat, that he assured me was 
his exact fit. He also assured me that the one he had 
given me in exchanage was not silk, although it was 
changeable, he having worn it first one side out and then 
the other, for the past four years. I cannot say I was 
very well pleased with the trade, that I had no hand in 
making, but was better satisfied when I saw the intrinsic 
value of the old hat in forming a part of my disguise. 

The following morning one of my shirt sleeves was 
torn off at the elbow, my bare arms and face were well 
besmeared with coal-dust, my long hair combed down 
straight under my secession hat, and with a small piece 
of an old dirty army blanket covering my shoulders, the 
boys acknowledged me all that went to make up the Union 
prisoner, except the tottering step and emaciated form. 
When all had been satisfactorily arranged, I anxiously 
awaited our departure, hardly caring what might be our 
destination, could I but escape the doom that seemed to 
await me. 

At the dawn of day the men were up and astir, es- 
pecially the six hundred who were to leave the Island. All 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 49 

kinds of rumors were afloat ; some thought we were going 
to City Point, Va., to be exchanged, while others ex- 
pressed their beHef that we were to go- to another prison. 
All our conceptions, however, suddenly ended when the 
voice of the dreaded Dick Turner was heard, as he passed 
through the camp, ordering the men to get into- line and 
march out of the gate, and form on the outside. At a 
narrow gateway in the breastwork that surrounded the 
camp, Dick Turner was stationed, eagerly watching the 
men as they filed by him, and sorrow to him who was 
caught "flanking," as they called it, where a man tried 
to pass out with a squad to which he did not belong. 

During nearly three years of my service, I had en- 
countered many hardships and narrow escapes, and only 
a few days previous to this while wounded, I lay bound 
to the earth by the weight of a dead horse for nearly an 
hour; but in all the thrilling experiences through which 
it had been my lot to pass, none could compare with the 
indescribable and hopeless feeling that took possession 
of me as I glanced at the hardened, heartless wretch be- 
fore me, and realized how my life hung by a thread, as 
it were, which he would quickly sever should he pene- 

4 



50 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

trate my disguise. As we passed through the gate, I 
recognized a man in front of me as a Sergeant belonging 
to the 5th New York Cavalry — a raider who was cap- 
tured at the same time as myself, though not one oi 
Dahlgren's men. He was attempting a "flank" move- 
ment, having foolishly conceived the idea that he might 
possibly pass the guard unobserved, and did not harbor 
the thought that should the attempt prove a failure, he 
would be brutally assaulted. But such proved to be the 
case, for as Turner recognized him as a new prisoner, he 
instantly caught a musket from the hands of one of the 
guards, and, clubbing the weapon, he felled the Sergeant 
to the ground. Not being satisfied with this, he thrust 
the point of the bayonet into the fellow's thigh, and with 
a terrible oath, kicked him several times as he crawled 
back inside the gate upon his hands and knees. 

If this man received such inhuman treatment for a 
trifling offense, I reasoned that nothing but my life would 
satisfy Turner should I be detected in this my feeble ef- 
fort to escape the awful punishment that confronted me. 
What a weight was lifted as I passed this man unob- 
served. What a bright spot suddenly shone upon the 
dark cloud that hung over me as the Sergeant who 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 51 

counted the men turned to the commanding officer and 
said, "Just six hundred, sir." 

I felt that meant everything to me; fox had there 
been one more than the number required, a search would 
have been made, and the chances were that it would have 
been found out that one of Dahlgren's men was missing. 

I promptly answered to the name of Sibley at roll- 
call, and thus far, all went as well as could have been 
expected. 



52 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



Chapter V. 

After the prisoners had been formed in two ranks, 
counted, and the roll called, Dick Turner stepped in front, 
and made the following remarks : 

"Yanks, last night my dog was killed by some of you 
uns in this ere crowid. I want to know who killed him, 
and I'll be d — d if I don't find out if it takes me a month. 
So now, you uns jest trot out the sneak that did it, and 
you're all right; and if you don't I'll chuck the whole of 
you back into that camp, and you'll go just seven days 
without rations. Do you hear?" 

And he brought down a heavy club upon a barrel- 
head that stood near, as if to strike terror to the hearts 
of his forlorn and dejected hearers. 

I whispered to my comrade, "Can it be that after 
passing through all right thus far, I am now to meet 
with adversity, perhaps lose my life?" 

As I spoke, a young man standing near me stepped 
to the front, and taking off his hat, saluted the Lieuten- 
ant, saying, "I am the man that killed your dog, sir." 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 53 

Every eye was turned towards the two men, and 
every man expected to see Dick Turner add another to 
his hst of murders; and possibly he might have done so 
liad he not been stopped by a superior officer before com- 
pleting his cruel work. When told by the brave boy — 
who looked to be not more than sixteen years of age — 
that he was the only person concerned in the killing of the 
dog, and knowing as he must, that the confession was 
made to save the brave young man's comrades from extra 
suffering, Turner, had he possessed a heart, or anything 
pertaining to honor, would have forgiven the trifling of- 
fense. But forgiveness was something Dick Turner 
could not expect from either God or man, then why ask 
it of him ? Walking up to the boy, he said : 

"Was you the wretch that killed my dog last night?" 

"I was, sir," came the prompt reply. 

"And what did you kill him for?" 

"For food," answered the young artilleryman, not 
taking his eyes from the face of the villian who stood be- 
fore him. 

"Then you eat dog meat, do you?" 

"I do when I am hungry enough, and can get it," was 
the reply. 



54 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

Turner then asked the fellow if he had any of the 
meat in his haversack; designating- a small dirty cotton 
bag that hung from his shoulder. 

The boy took a piece of the meat from the sack, and 
held it up before the heartless man, who should have 
blushed with shame, but instead he in a sneering tone said : 

"You Yankee beauty, if you eat dog meat, eat a 
mouthful of that as it is." 

The poor fellow, not daring to refuse, took a piece 
of the raw meat in his mouth, whereupon the wretch 
struck him across the face with the side of his sword, 
saying : 

"It suits you too well; come with me, you d — d 
Yankee dog-killer." 

Near the gates there had been constructed an imple- 
ment of torture called the "Jack." This consisted of 
two posts driven into the ground some six or eight feet 
apart; a plank was pinned or spiked to the side of these 
posts, about three feet from the ground. The prisoner 
was placed astride this plank, with his feet tied together 
underneath. His arms were pinioned and a stick of wood 
nearly the size of a railroad tie was placed between his 
legs, thus stretching the limbs and preventing the sufferer 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 55 

from falling from the edge of the plank. I think it was 
from five to ten minutes that the boy endured the suffer- 
ing before the excruciating pain overcome him, and he 
fainted. In about fifteen minutes he revived, and at the 
oame time fortune favored him, as one of Turner's supe- 
rior officers appeared on the scene. This officer — a Ma- 
jor I think — came to take the prisoners from the Island 
to the Libby, and as he was in a hurry, he ordered the 
boy to be taken from the "J^^ck" and placed back in the 
ranks. Lieutenant Turner protested, saying he had only 
had him there five minutes, but the commanding officer 
was obeyed, although it caused disappointment to him 
who had doted on seeing one more emaciated form writhe 
in agony to gratify his hellish desires. 

As the young man was released he was assisted back 
into the ranks and soon after, as he was moving along, 
leaning un a comrade for support, he said, "I got out of 
that pretty well, didn't I, boys?" 

I felt like expressing my opinion in the same words, 
but as my case was of a more serious character, and as 
yet I was far from being out of danger, I concluded to 
be as discreet as possible, speak only when spoken to and 
not subject myself to any unnecessary inspection. 



56 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

We were soon treading the floors of the 
notorious Libby, that was as familiar to many 
of the six hundred as their own firesides; while 
others who, when captured, were taken direct 
from the scene of action to Belle Island, had never 
been introduced to the managers of that institution ; even 
the mere mention of its name aroused a feeling of horror 
and despair in the hearts of thousands whose loved ones 
were slowly but surely dying from the cruel treatment 
they were subjected to. 

At the time of which I write, — March, 1864, — 
Libby prison was the most notorious place where Union 
prisoners were confined. Belle Island was second; and 
the name and history of both will be handed down from 
generation to generation. But little did the good and 
loyal people of the North think while reading of the bar- 
barous cruelty perpetrated in Libby upon their brave and 
beloved defenders of the Union, that nearly completed 
was another den of horrors — Andersonville — whose his- 
tory was to startle and shock the world ; whose inaugura- 
tors could truthfully boast that they had slain thirteen 
thousand brave, noble and patriotic Union soldiers within 
its walls. That cruelty, starvation and exposure in the 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 57 

prison pen was by far more effective than shot and shell. 

Here, for thirty-six hours, the six hundred prison- 
ers occupied the second floor of this historic structure, 
while waiting the change that would add to the cup of 
sorrow that many had drained to its bitter dregs. The 
pain that I endured was terrible, but I dared not complain 
or ask for medical attendance, for fear of detection. 
Health and youth were in my favor, and could I but escape 
the ignominious death that I feared awaited me, should 
I remain in Richmond, I believed I could endure pain 
without a murmur. So long as I remained there I was in 
constant danger of being missed from the raiders left on 
the Island; and the next morning as I saw Dick Turner 
standing at the head of the stairs, looking over the pris- 
oners, I believed my doom was sealed. I instantly com- 
menced giving a message to Comrade Hull to be con- 
veyed to my friends at home, should he live to reach 
them, when to my overwhelming joy, I saw Turner retrace 
his steps after making some inquiry not relating to Dahl- 
gren's raiders or the men who accompanied him. 

With the bare floor for a bed, without blankets, and 
in cold March weather, our situation was not a desirable 
one for the thirty-six hours we remained in Libby, pre- 



58 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

vioLis to our one thousand miles' ride to Andersonville. 
The second night, about twelve or one o'clock, I heard 
the voices of men on the floor beneath the one we occu- 
pied, and spoke to my comrade, who had fallen asleep, 
telling him that something unusual was going on among 
the guards, and that I feared my escape from the Island 
had been discovered. The anxiety I felt in regard to 
my perilous situation, together with the suffering from 
my injured limb, prevented me from enjoying either rest 
or sleep, before exhaustion came to the rescue. Anj act 
varying from the usual course would naturally txjite 
my suspicion, therefore sleep was out of the question 
until I had turned my back upon those who had so un- 
justly said that I should die. Comrade Hull said it was 
more likely we were going to move, which proved to be 
the case, for in a few moments five or six rebels — among 
them the dreaded Dick Turner — walked through the 
room, kicking those who were sleeping, and with each 
kick uttering an oath, and names that propriety forbids 
inserting in these pages. 

"Up and get into line ! Fall in ! Fall into line, you 
d — d Yankee nigger worshippers!" 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 59 

Such were the names and abusive language we heard, 
and which only the most ignorant and unprincipled per^ 
son will ever use. 

The men were not long in getting into line, form- 
ing two ranks on each side of the room and through the 
center. The roll was then called, the men counted, and 
the order given, "Forward march !" 

As we passed out of the door at the main entrance, a 
loaf of corn-bread called a "pone," or "dodger," weigh- 
ing about two pounds, was given to each man. Most 
likely this was the first, and probably the only instance 
where the issuing of food to Union prisoners, caused a 
feeling of sorrow and despair among those who would 
afterwards so ravenously grasp the unpalatable mixture. 
But they knew that if they were going to be paroled or 
exchanged, they would not receive these rations, which 
the rebels considered sufficient for three days, as the next 
day they would be in their own lines. Then again, they 
would not care to have the bill of fare at the Libby hotel 
known to the people of the North, more than was actually 
necessary. Had these prisoners been destined for City 
Point, or any contiguous place of exchange, six hundred 
Confederate corn dodgers would in a few days have been 



60 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

on exhibition in six hundred Northern homes. Well the 
Johnnies knew it, and well we knew by the size of the 
dodg-er, that the distance was great, and that another 
prison pen inevitably awaited our arrival. 

A picture of that midnight march would be fondly 
cherished at the present day by the surviving participants. 
Slowly the dejected looking crew wended its way through 
the dark and deserted streets of the rebel city, while its 
people quietly reposed in the cradle of secession. What 
a change in the appearance of these youthful heroes. 
What a change a few short months had made in their 
mental and physical condition. What an effect calculat- 
ing barbarity has had upon them. Yes! The ghastly 
faces are vividly portrayed by the light of a street lamp. 
The tottering steps of those who are not assisted by com- 
rades, or leaning upon crutches and canes for support, is 
indisputable evidence of the cruelty to which they have 
been subjected. Silently these skeleton forms advance. 
The solitude of the night is broken only by the sentry, 
as he walks to and fro on his beat. 

But hark! The shrill whistle of a railroad locomo- 
tive now breaks upon our ears. The guards who walk 
on each side of this forlorn and shivering column, urge 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 61 

them on, and soon the hne is formed beside the waiting 
train of box cars, that stands ready to convey its load of 
human freight to that den of horrors, which at that date 
was known only to the demons of Hell, and the Southern 
Confederacy. 

The six hundred prisoners were soon packed into 
ten freight cars, each commodious apartment receiving 
sixty men. After deducting room for a water barrel, 
there was a little over four square feet to each man, or 
two feet square. This may appear to the reader suffi- 
cient room for those whom I have previously described. 
Therefore, I must ask him to bear in mind that our mode 
of living did not materially change our height. It was 
the breadth and thickness of the boys that caused one of 
the rebel officers to remark, when a protest was made 
against crowding sixty men into one box car, "You can 
pack as many Yanks into a car as you can clapboards." 

To protest against any wrong, to ask for food, medi- 
cine, clothing, wood, or anything essential to our com- 
fort more than they were actually obliged to give to pre- 
vent immediate death, was refused with such evident de- 
light, that we soon learned to ask them for nothing, and 



62 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

murmur as little as possible, so that our enemies were then 
less delighted. 

About three o'clock in the morning of March 9th,' 
1864, the engineer and his firemen, — a slave, — stepped on 
their engine that was to draw ten freight cars loaded with 
six hundred prisoners, and one passenger car, carrying 
about forty officers and guards, and pulled out from the 
Richmond depot, 

"How are you, City Point?" 

"How are you going home?" 

"What do you think of the parole?" 

And all such remarks were made by those whose 
heart and courage had not entirely failed them, as we 
were being conveyed from the loathsome dens of Rich- 
mond, to a place as yet unknown to us. Indeed, we were 
as ignorant of our destination as were the cattle which a 
few days previously were conveyed to the slaughter in 
the same cars that now transported brave Union soldiers 
to a more terrible doom. 

The reader may consider this hardly credible, in 
this, our civilized country; but the patriotic hearts still 
beat in the bosoms of many of the survivors who passed 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 63 

through that terrible ordeal, and who will vouch for its 
truthfulness. 

Only once, during a ride of nine hundred miles, oc- 
cupying nearly five days and nights, were we allowed to 
step on the ground. The third day about two o'clock in 
the afternoon, our train halted for one hour at or near a 
small station in South Carolina, on the R D rail- 
road. The guards were thrown out, encircling about 
one-half acre of nice level ground covered with grass and a 
few scattering trees. Here we were allowed to leave the 
cars and rest our tired limbs, that had remained in such 
a cramped condition for the past sixty hours, that many 
had become so paralyzed that they had to be assisted 
from the cars to the ground, and back ag'ain, at the ex- 
piratio.n of the hour that seemed to pass with the rapidity 
of thought. 

The small amount of corn-bread given us when leav- 
ing Richmond was by this time all gone, and some, whose 
appetites were more uncontrollable than others, had been 
fasting for the past twenty-four hours, having eaten their 
allowance during the first day and a half or two days, 
then trusting in fortune for the next. But thus far for- 
tune had not favored them, excepting through the in- 



64 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

strumentality of others whose physical condition pre- 
vented them from partaking of such coarse food. There- 
fore, it was freely given to those who had thus far been 
blessed with a degree of health that would enable them to 
subsist upon what their more unfortunate comrades could 
partake only in sufficient quantity to sustain life. 

As for myself, I was so rejoiced over my escape from 
Belle Island, that, thus far, I had not given my physical 
condition due consideration; neither had my comrade, 
who had given me all the assistance he possibly could dur- 
ing our journey. But as the distance between us and our 
tyrannical keepers at Libby and Belle Island became 
greater I began more fully to comprehend the true char- 
acter of my condition. 

By this time my wounded limb had become badly 
swollen — the limited space allotted each person in the car 
causing many raps and bruises to the wound it would 
not otherwise have received. Then I realized full well 
that our condition would not be materially benefited by 
the transfer from one prison to another, and that a 
wounded man's prospects of recovery in such a place are 
not of an encouraging nature. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 65 

After we had again been packed into the car, I was 
seated in one corner with my wounded leg — which had 
been bathed in cold water — slung up on the side of the 
car in a piece of an old army blanket, and I did not suffer 
so badly, sleeping that night quite well. At this place, 
when the men were taken from the cars, we expected that 
rations of some kind would be issued to us before the 
train again moved on. But what was our dismay when 
two or three men advanced with baskets filled with what 
we supposed to be some kind of bread, but as they came 
alongside, they emptied the baskets, filled with ears of 
raw corn, on the car floor saying: 

"Yanks, this is the best we can do for you now; you 
may eat it or throw it out. We can get nothing else here, 
it is impossible." 

As this explanation was given, a murmur ran 
through the car, mingled with hisses and groans, not en- 
tirely free from profanity. 

We came from Richmond to Danville, Va., on the 
Piedmont Air Line, thence to Americus, Ga., via Atlanta, 
and Macon. The guards who came with us from Rich- 
mond appeared to be decent kind of men. They had 



66 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

served in the field and at the front, therefore they did not 
attempt to obtain an honorable war record by brutally 
treating their prisoners of war. During the day, all the 
guards rode on top of the cars, and at night they were 
divided into reliefs, one man being posted inside each car 
at the door, and one on top. Two of the prisoners were 
shot by the guards, while trying to make their escape by 
jumping from the cars while in motion. The car door 
was left open during the day, the guard sitting or stand- 
ing in the doorway. Just at dark the door was nearly 
closed, leaving a space two or three inches wide, and at 
this narrow opening the guard took up his station, thus 
shutting out any light that might shine, and any chance 
of escape until the door was again opened. Just as the 
shades of night were falling on the eve of the second day 
of our journey, when the train was running at some 
eighteen or twenty miles an hour, and just previous to 
the doors being closed for the night, two New York sol- 
diers jumped from the car door to the ground, and made 
for the field. One was shot while climbing the railroad 
fence, and the other just after reaching the field. These 
men escaped from the forward part of the train, thus ex- 
posing themselves to the fire all along the train. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 67 

The train stopped for a few minutes and some slaves 
near by were ordered to bury the dead prisoners. We 
learned from the friends of the murdered men that they 
told their comrades previous to their leap for liberty that 
they did not much expect to escape, but had rather die in 
the attempt than longer undergo the pangs of hunger and 
other suffering to which they were subjected. 

This happened soon after we crossed the South Caro- 
lina State Line, and before crossing the State tv/o more 
attempts at freedom were made. One proved fatal, the 
poor fellow, who belonged to the 5th Michigan Cavalry, 
being shot dead as soon as he touched the ground; while 
the other, as he jumped, instantly rolled himself under 
the side of the car, lying as near the rail as possible, so as 
not to be hit by the running gear of the cars, and remained 
in this position until the cars had passed over him. There- 
fore, one out of four escaped^ either to meet death in some 
other form or to reach our lines; the writer never knew 
which fate befell him. One of the guards was accident- 
ally shot while standing at his post, resting the butt of his 
gun on the threshold of the car door. The weapon 
slipped from his hand, the hammer came in contact with 
the iron that supported the door, the gun was discharged, 



68 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

the ball entered the man's head under the chin, and, pass- 
ing up through his head, killed him instantly. The train 
was stopped, and the commanding officer and many of his 
men gathered around, and in the car, accusing the prison- 
ers of murdering the guard. But upon close examination 
they were convinced of the truthfulness of our statement; 
though had it not been for the hole in the roof of the car, 
showing the direction of the ball, and that the gun could 
not have been in the hands of another when fired, I can 
not but believe that the result of the accident would have 
proved anything but agreeable to the occupants of that 
car. ) 

At Atlanta a small amount of food was given to the 
prisoners. A little corn bread and a few hard-tack were 
given to a Sergeant, or one acting Sergeant, in each car, 
on the fourth day of our journey, and fifteen hours previ- 
ous to our arrival at Andersonville. The food — about 
sufficient to appease the hunger of ten men — was equally 
divided among the fifty-seven men in our car, three men 
having died on the way ; and probably the same amount of 
food was issued to the rest. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 09 



Chapter VI. 

On the 14th of March, about two o'clock in the after- 
noon, our train halted for the last time on that long to be 
remembered ride, at a small station in Sumter County, 
Georgia, about sixty-five miles southeast of Macon, fifty 
from the Alabama State Line, and one mile from that 
prison whose history has startled and shocked the world 
with a tale of woe, death and sorrow before unheard of 
and unknown to civilization. 

From the cars — after being counted like cattle — we 
were marched to the gates of the prison, and there sub- 
jected to the taunts and jeers of those who were too ignor- 
ant to realize the shame, disgrace and brutality of striking 
a fallen foe. 

He was not a "wolf in sheep's. clothing," but a brute 
in Reb's clothing, was the little, swearing, swaggering 
hump-backed Captain, who divided the six hundred pris- 
oners into nineties. Before opening the gate for us to 
pass into that den of horrors, from which so many were 
never to return alive, he gave us thoroughly to understand 
that should we attempt an escape, we would meet with 



YO OVER THE DEAD LINE 

instant death; and to emphasize his cowardly threat, he 
shook his revolver in our faces. The stockade had been 
completed only a few days, therefore we would not want 
for wood for some time, as there were many pine stumps 
and limbs, together with the chips hewn from the logs used 
in the construction of the stockade, which enclosed about 
fifteen acres of ground. The large pine logs were hewn 
on four sides, and were twenty-five feet in length. A 
ditch was dug around the fifteen acres ; the logs, or hewn 
timbers were placed on end in an upright position in this 
ditch, and the earth tamped around them, thus making a 
substantial wall twenty feet high, and running down into 
the ground five feet. The camp was a rectangle, being 
a little longer from east to west than from north to south. 
It was situated on two hill-sides, about equally divided by 
a small, sluggish brook running through the centre of the 
camp from west to east. Along this brook was a swamp, 
occupying about four or five acres. 

I think there were only about six hundred in the 
prison when we arrived. They were scattered all over the 
camp. Our six stopped on the south side. The nineties 
were divided into messes containing fifteen men, apd a 
sergeant was appointed to take charge of each ninety. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 71 

Then, when we drew our beef or bacon — which was but 
very few times — it was drawn for the battahon — four 
nineties — a sergeant of each ninety drawing for his own. 
The ninety rations were then divided into sixj)arts, and 
the sergeant of a mess drew his share for the fifteen. The 
sergeant — as such he was called, whether sergeant, cor- 
poral or private — would cut the meat into fifteen pieces, 
generally consisting of about two ounces each, and while 
all were gathered around the small amount of tainted beef 
or bacon, one man would turn his back, and the sergeant, 
kneeling by the precious mite, would lay his knife on a 
piece, and say to the man whose back was turned : 

"Who has this?" 

The answer would come, 

"No. 9." 

"Who has this?" 

"No. II." 

"Who has this?" 

"No. 3." 

And so on, till all the fifteen pieces were given out. 
By dividing our rations in this manner, no one could say 
there was any partiality shown in the division. The corn 
meal was divided diflferently ; the amount being generally 



72 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

drawn on a rubber blanket and the sergeant measuring out 
a pint to each man, calHng the numbers from one to fif- 
teen. One of these cups held one or two spoonfuls more 
than a pint. After each man drew his cup full, if there 
was a little left, the sergeant would divide it with a spoon. 

We had been inside an hour or more, when a mule 
team was driven into the south gate with rations of corn 
meal for the camp. As No. 3 — my number — was called, 
I said to those standing about the mess : 

''What will I do? I have nothing to draw my meal 
in." 

Whereupon, a fellow standing by my side, caught 
my Crimea hat from my head, and, holding it before my 
eyes, exclaimed : 

"You are green. What's the matter with that meal- 
sack?" 

I had not thought of my hat before, but as the ser- 
geant cried out, "Hurrah there, No. 3, or you will lose 
your meal," I stepped forward and took my twenty-four 
hours' rations in the old hat. Some one said to me soon 
after, as I stood leaning upon my crutches, thinking what 
was best to do next : 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 73 

"Chum, if you have no way to cook your grub, and 
are going to throw it away, I'll take it and cook it to the 
halves." But being too hungry to accept this generous 
offer, I made my way to the brook, and with my hand 
dipped a sufficient quantity of water into the hat to make 
the meal into a sort of dough. I then put it upon a large 
pine chip and placed it near the fire, cooking it well upon 
one side, then carefully took it from the chip, and prop- 
ping it up with the raw side to the heat, I soon had my 
dinner, supper and breakfast ; it being my only food for 
twenty-four hours. I speak of this, as it was my first 
meal in Andersonville. 

As I had been robbed in Richmond of all I possessed 
except the twenty dollar note, I was pretty destitute. My 
first move toward procuring cooking utensils was to find 
some one who could change my money. I was warned 
by Comrade Hull not to exhibit it more than was abso- 
lutely necessary, as some of these fellows had become 
financially embarrassed to such an extent that they would 
consider it no sin to appropriate my mite to their own 
special use. But in a day or two I found a fellow who had 
made quite a little sum in the Pemberton, at Richmond, 
and he gave me a ten and two fives for my twenty dollar 



74 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

note. I soon found another who, in some mysterious 
manner had become the possessor of two old oyster cans 
and a canteen. The cans held about three half-pints each. 
I gave him a ten dollar note for one of the cans and five 
dollars for half the canteen. The latter had been thrown 
into the fire, and unsoldered, thus making two very good 
baking dishes, each piece being shaped something like a 
tea-saucer, only larger. Comrade Hull was the owner of 
about two-thirds of an old army blanket, and this consti- 
tuted the whole oi his worldly effects. It was well worn, 
but upon stretching it upon four sticks it would in a meas- 
ure protect us from the sun, though not from the rain.Hull 
and myself tented together, sharing equally the little it was 
our good fortune to possess. When I found him he had 
no way of cooking his food, excepting as he borrowed 
from others the simple substitutes for cooking utensils 
they might posses ; and then not until after the owner had 
used them, and often others who might have spoken for 
them before himself. But now we were pretty well pro- 
vided for, and the main part of our daily labor was to look 
after our cooking utensils, to see that they were not 
burned, stolen or injured in any way by those to whom 
we loaned them. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 75 

The latter part of March was cold and rainy, and to 
add to my seemingly unendurable suffering, I was attacked 
by rheumatism, and for three or four weeks I suffered 
more than I have the power to tell. 

Thirteen Vermont boys camped near the south gate. 
We occupied a small piece of ground not more than thirty 
feet square, and during the summer we dug a well twenty- 
three feet on that piece of ground and found good water. 
Among the thirteen there were eight from my own com- 
pany — two of them, Milo Farnsworth and Frank B. Joce- 
lyn, of Company B, my regiment — were captured the same 
night I was. 

During the months of March and April many old 
prisoners came in from Libby, Belle Island, Danville and 
Salisbury. They were ragged, dirty and starved. As I 
stood by the gate, and saw these poor, forlorn looking 
creatures limp and stagger through the gate, and into an- 
other pen, where, if possible, they were to receive worse 
treatment than they had in the vile dens where they had 
passed the winter, and saw their glassy eyes dilate at the 
horrors surrounding them, I said to a comrade at my side : 
"Poor fellows! May God help them. If we stay here 
long, scarcely a man will be left to tell the story." 



76 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

It was hard enough for men taken fresh from the 
field, and confined in such a terrible place, but for those 
who had endured the cold and hunger during the long 
winter, with no bed but a hard floor, many of them suf- 
fering: from unhealed wounds, there was little chance that 
they could bear up under such cruelties as the Confeder- 
ate Government found itself capable of inflicting. 

My wounded foot grew better as the warm weather 
came, my rheumatism left me, and although I was very 
lame during the whole summer, I was better of¥ than many 
of my comrades. I felt so thankful for my escape from 
Richmond, and the ignominious death that awaited me 
there, that the pangs of hunger, combined with the suffo- 
cating stench that pervaded the atmosphere at Anderson- 
ville seemed as trifles as compared with what I had es- 
caped. During the heat of the day many of the boys 
would lie along in the shade of the stockade. As the old 
prisoners from Libby, Belle Island and other places of 
confinement had no tents, of course it was an atom of 
comfort to be allowed the shadow of the prison wall as a 
momentary protection from the burning rays of the south- 
ern sun. But no, this was not long to be enjoyed. The 
rebels went to work and built a "Dead Line." This con- 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 77 

sisted of light pickets, driven into the ground six feet 
apart, and on top of these pickets boards two inches high 
and one inch thick were nailed, making a railing about two 
feet high, 20 feet from the stockade. This was the "Dead 
Line" that has been talked of by millions of people; and 
many a poor soldier met his death at that fatal line. I 
have seen a man shot to death by the heartless wretch who 
was standing guard at the top of the wall, for reaching a 
hand under the line to procure a chip of wood to cook his 
corn-meal ; and I have seen others shot for reaching a hand 
under the line to fill their cups with water. One fellow 
who had lost a leg, and had suffered until life became a 
burden, deliberately stepped over the line, and, seating 
himself upon the ground, lay his crutches by his side, and 
folding his arms, was shot to death by the wretch who was 
only too willing to do the horrible work. Standing in the 
immediate vicinity, I closed my eyes a moment upon the 
cold-blooded murder, and all was over. The poor cripple, 
who could never have borne arms again, was shot to death 
and his murderer, we are told, received a furlough for his 
bravery. Hundreds of Union prisoners were eye-wit- 
nesses to this piece of brutality ; and any ex-Union prison- 
ers who may chance to peruse these pages^ will at once be 



Y8 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

reminded of the one-legged man, familiarly known as 
"Pretty Poll," on account of his Roman nose. Each 
morning men were detailed to go over the camp, and bring 
the dead to the south gate. There they were laid along 
in rows, and in the afternoon they were loaded into an 
army wagon, and drawn away to the burying ground, 
where a few Union prisoners were digging the ditch for 
the last resting place of their comrades in arms, receiving 
an extra ration for their work. People wearing comfort- 
able clothes, who sleep in warm comfortable beds and have 
plenty of food, may disapprove of this work by Union 
men. But should they reason that this work must be done 
and that the poor starving fellows received an extra ration 
and fresh air for their work, thereby perhaps saving their 
own lives, critics may think differently. Oftimes the dead 
were not drawn out for two days. I have counted two 
hundred or more dead men at one time; and as they lay 
exposed to the hot sun, the effect can better be imagined 
than described. Thus the dead who died inside the stock- 
ade were disposed of for the first two months; after that 
they were carried outside to the dead house. 

By this time the spring campaign had opened, and 
with the new and old prisoners who then occupied that 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 79 

small space of ground, the death roll was surprising to be- 
hold. For the want of stretchers, blankets and sticks of 
wood were called into requisition and, surprising as it may 
seem, it came to be considered a privilege to assist in this 
work, so that men would contend for it. It even came to 
be a matter of trade, and from one to three dollars in 
United States money was the price for being permitted to 
carry out a dead body. In doing this work, the bearers 
would not only have the opportunity of breathing God's 
free air for a short time, but they often obtained admis- 
sion to the hospital for a few moments, where they were 
likely to find some untasted portion of food that had been 
given to the sick, and this they would obtain to appease 
their hunger. They were also allowed by the guard to 
collect any wood that lay along the roadside; and often 
two fellows who had given two dollars for a dead body, 
would bring in wood that they could sell for five. Each 
morning men were detailed to carry the sick out of the 
gate, into a small place that had been partitioned off, 
where the doctors would prescribe for those who were not 
admitted to the hospital. Generally, the doctors and as- 
sistants would get through with this work in a couple of 
hours., but one very warm morning, the third of June, for 



80 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

some reason they were much longer ; those who carried the 
sick out were waiting at the gate for orders to pass out 
after those who were to be brought back. A fellow who 
was acting as sergeant of a ninety said to the guard — who 
was walking to and fro between the gate and Dead Line : 
"How long before we can go out after our sick?" 

"When we get ready," was the prompt reply of the 
Johnny, who was posted there to keep the crowd from 
pressing too near the gate. Being of the number detailed 
that morning, I stood behind the young fellow who was 
acting-sergeant, with my hands upon his shoulders. I 
advised him to say nothing to the rebel, as the latter ap- 
peared to be one of those brave men who would as soon 
fire into a crowd of defenceless men as not. But the act- 
ing-sergeant again said : 

"Come, we want our men, they will die out there in 
the hot sun." 

"Stand back thar!" was the reply. 

Then the sergeant said : "I guess you don't know 
your business. Do you, anyhow?" 

Whereupon the Reb stepped backward, lifted his 
gun and fired. The gun was levelled at the sergeant's 
breast, but just as the wretch pulled the trigger, the ser- 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 81 

geant caught the bayonet with his left hand, pulHng it 
down so the ball struck him in the abdomen, passing 
through his body. As my hands were upon his shoulders, 
and I saw the quick motion of the rebel, I turned sideways 
and the ball, passing through the sergeant's body, struck 
me on my left hip, grazing my back, just cutting the skin, 
then passed through another man's leg into the ground. 
Had the ball passed through my hips, in all probability it 
would not have hurt me as badly as it did. 

It was about three hundred feet from where the shot 
was fired to the place where our boys were camped. They 
all rose on hearing the report, and seeing me hopping on 
one foot towards them, Hull exclaimed : 

"Boys, Dufur is shot !" 
And they all started to meet me. As they came up, I held 
out my leg, and, swinging it around to assure myself that 
no bones were broken, said: 

"Yes boys, I am shot, but I think it only a flesh 
wound. See how I can move my foot." 

They gathered around me, and as the wound was 
exposed to view, they had a hearty laugh at my expense, 
as there was not enough of blood to wet my clothing. For 

6 



82 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

a long- time afterward when the bo_vs were lying quietly 
about, some one would suddenly spring to his feet, and, 
going through as many manoeuvres as an Ethiopian jig 
dancer, hopping upon one foot, and kicking the other, 
would exclaim : "Don't be frightened, boys, it's only a 
flesh wound, etc., etc. I felt so thankful that my life had 
again been spared that I rather enjoyed the bit of sport 
they had at my expense. 

About this time Mlilo Farnsworth was taken sick, and 
each day for weeks he grew worse, believing himself all 
the time to be gaining. Poor fellow ! He was only sev- 
enteen or eighteen years of age, and had only been in the 
Regiment about three weeks when he was captured. Al- 
most direct from a happy home in Northern Vermont, 
where as an only son he was petted and loved by fond 
parents and kind sisters, he came to that loathsome den 
that had been selected for one of the most terrible human 
sacrifices that the world has ever seen ! Into these narrow 
walls were now crowded nearly thirty thousand men, with 
no bed but the earth, no shelter but the heavens. Daily 
they were seen crawling from holes, in which, like SAvine, 
they had burrowed. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 83 

Every root of the mammoth pines was dug from the 
ground and converted into fuel. Two large pine trees 
were left standing in the south-east corner of the stockade, 
as before fuel became so necessary to our existence the 
prisoners collected in the immediate vicinity of these trees, 
and constructed their rude shelters or homes; therefore, 
we could not afterward fell them without endangering 
life. 

We had not been long in the stockade when, for want 
of pure water, the men began digging wells near the bor- 
der of the swamp. They obtained water, and a great im- 
provement it was on that taken from the filthy brook, 
directly over which the Rebs' cook-house was built, and 
from which the prisoners were supposed to take all the 
water used during imprisonment. Had we been com- 
pelled to use the water from this brook through those 
warm summer months, I cannot think there would have 
been a man living at the end of eight months to tell the 
story. The brook was completely covered with floating 
grease and offal from the cook-house, and of course noth- 
ing but stern necessity would have made us willing to 
touch our lips to such a forbidding mixture. It was soon 
discovered that the farther from the brook the wells were 



84 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

dug, the better and colder the water, although it required 
patience and hard work to dig wells on the higher ground, 
where from twenty to thirty feet of earth had to be taken 
out before striking a vein of water, with only an old piece 
of a shovel blade and half a canteen as implements of labor. 
Nevertheless we were amply paid with the good cold 
water we ever after received. 

A man who was quietly sleeping in his little blanket 
tent near the edge of one of these deepest wells, was in- 
stantly buried alive by the falling in of the earth. This 
was on June 28th, and the day following two men were 
wounded — one mortally — by the guard. A man stepped 
inside the Dead Line, and was at once fired upon, but in- 
stead of receiving any injury himself, it had fallen upon 
the innocent two who were lying down in their tent. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 85 



Chapter VII. 

It was a common occurrence to hear the report of a 
rifle, followed by the cry of some poor fellow who had 
been shot while endeavoring to procure a chip or a stick of 
wood across the Dead Line, under cover of darkness. 

Nearly every day during May, June and July pris- 
oners came in. Some were allowed to keep their blankets 
and overcoats, and a few had pieces of tents, which, but- 
toned together, made a shelter. It would naturally seem 
that men who were unfortunate enough to be inmates of 
so terrible a place would be drawn together by stronger 
ties of friendship than in other and happier circumstances. 
But this did not prove to be the case with a certain class, 
whom it was our misfortune to have as fellow-prisoners. 
There were a few New York "Bounty Jumpers" and men 
who came into the army through the New York draft, 
who were taken prisoners at the first opportunity they had 
of surrendering, and with the intention of living by their 
wits. This being defined, is simply robbing, thieving, 
and at the same time, escaping every act pertaining to a 
true soldier's duty. These desperadoes formed them- 



86 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

selves into a gang which we caUed "Mosby's Raiders." 
They Hved by robbing, and sometimes bv almost murder- 
mg their comrades in misfortune. One writer has said : 
"We would fain believe such men are exceptions among 
Federal soldiers, but it may be we cannot tell how harsh 
treatment, and long-continued neglect and abuse, would 
degrade manhood, in any. case." 

Now I have cause to know that the harsh treatment 
that these desperadoes received was previous to their con- 
nection with the Federal army, and that they were the 
same kind of men, had the same dispositions and princi- 
ples, when at home, as when they stood on the scaffold in 
Andersonville. They did not interfere with me, as I had 
nothing to tempt their cupidity. 

There were all kinds of speculation going on in the 
prison. On one occasion, flour was issued instead of meal 
and being very hungry and thinking more of quantity than 
of quality, I thought I would exchange my flour for meal. 
There were some who did not use all their meal, being sick, 
or else were able to buy articles of food from the Rebs; 
therefore I started out with my twenty-four hours' rations 
in the lining of an old coat-sleeve — my pantry. Of course 
I wanted the flour myself, very much; but it would not 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 87 

appease hunger as much as the amount of cheaper food I 
could obtain for it. As I passed down the street shouting : 
"Who will swap meal for flour?" a man opened the door 
of the largest tent in the prison and beckoned me to enter. 
I was very thoughtless in going so near this tent, knowing 
it to be a rendezvous of the Raiders, six or eight of the 
leaders owning the tent together. Seeing I hesitated a 
moment, two other men stepped out and told me to walk 
in, if I wished to trade. I dared not do otherwise, and 
entered, whereupon a pug-nose, pugilistic ruffian, took 
from a shelf a small box, already containing six or eight 
quarts of flour, and told me to empty my own into that. 
I did so, and then waited two or three minutes, thinking 
they might not rob me, relying a little upon my lameness 
in eliciting their sympathy. But no ; they were the wrong 
men to sympathize with suffering humanity. One might 
as well look for a tender spqt in the heart of an Egyptian 
mummy. One of them at length said : 
"What are you waiting here for?" 
"For the meal I expect you to give me," I said. 
"Oh, get out of this," he said, taking me by the arm, 
and as I did not start at once, and told them it was very 
hard to be robbed of the small allowance that I was to live 



OVER THE DEAD LINE 



on for twenty-four hours, I was knocked down and brut- 
ally kicked out of the tent. I could show no resistance, 
as I was weak and lame. Such were the characteristics of 
the Andersonville Raiders. 

I think there were thirty-two guard posts, or sentry 
boxes around the stockade, and after nine o'clock in the 
evening every thirty minutes the guard would cry the hour 
of the night.. The prison was bounded on the east by a 
vast wilderness and swamp, and from them came such 
vast number of mosquitoes that after being scorched by 
the burning sun through the day, we were tormented 
through the night by these pests; consequently the poor 
fellows who were too sick and feeble to guard against them 
and the like, might die by these plagues alone, if by noth- 
ing else. 

The scurvy made its appearance in the fore part of 
the summer. This disease is brought on by want of 
change in diet, and its horrors none can know but those 
who have experienced them. Sometimes the disease 
would appear in the limbs, and the cords would be so 
drawn up the victim could not walk. The limbs became 
swollen and the flesh discolored, as if it had been beaten 
with clubs ; and so soft, the impress of the fingers would 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 89 

remain a long time. Sometimes it would be confined to 
the bones, and not show itself on the surface at all ; in such 
cases it would be attended with the most intense pain. At 
oher times it would appear in the mouth, and the teeth 
would become separated from the gums and finally drop 
out altogether, and not a tooth be left in the jaw. I have 
seen hundreds of cases of this disease, where the men 
actually starved to death, because they were unable to eat 
the coarse food furnished them by the Rebel Government. 

The blood of the men was in such an impure state 
that the least break of the skin would be almost sure to 
lead to a gangrenous sore, and many amputations were 
performed in consequence. Under the influence of a 
scorching sun, the entire upper surface of the foot would 
become blistered, and this would break, leaving the flesh 
exposed. Having no covering for it, nor any way to pro- 
tect it from the heat, gangrene was inevitable; and this 
would be followed by a loss of the foot, if not the whole 
limb, by amputation. In many cases the victims were so 
much debilitated when the attempt was made they would 
never recover from the influence of the chloroform. 

Some became totally blind, occasioned in all proba- 



90 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

bility by the victims being constantly exposed to the sun's 
bright rays. 

About two thousand men died in the month of June, 
and during this month it rained twenty-one days in suc- 
cession ; and it was scarcely strange that under these con- 
ditions disease should increase and assume every imagin- 
able form. Captain Wirz appeared perfectly happy as he 
daily went his rounds, threatening, swearing at and misus- 
ing all those with whom he came in contact. In no way 
did he show by word or act that he had the least spark of 
sympathy or care for the lives of the unfortunate beings 
who had fallen into his power. He did not seem to real- 
ize that it was possible for his tyranny to have an end; 
little did this wretch think during his monopoly that any 
of the starving heroes who were now so completely at his 
mercy would in so short a time be numbered among those 
whom the Nation honored; and that the same voices now 
so piteously pleading to him for bread, would be heard ex- 
claiming " Andersonville ! Andersonville !" as he was 
launched into eternity by the hangman's hands. 

On the 29th of June three hundred prisoners came in 
from West Virginia. These newcomers afforded the 
Raiders, or camp robbers, Jiew fields of labor. By this 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 91 

time they had become so bold that they did not care for, 
or choose the shadows of night for their atrocious work, 
but would in the broad open light of day commit any crime 
from petty larceny to the foulest murder. Upon the en- 
trance of the unsuspecting new prisoners, one of their 
number — a German — was at once seized upon by the mob 
and his watch that he had saved and one hundred and 
twenty-five dollars were taken from him. In cutting his 
pocket, they inflicted a serious wound upon the man's leg; 
this dastardly act aroused the indignation of all, and at 
once the injured man proceeded to the gate, where he 
came face to face with Capt. Wirz. I saw the giiard 
making ready to fire upon the man who was wholly un- 
conscious of danger, knowing naught of the Dead Line or 
the rules of the prison. But as the old Dutchman — as we 
called Wirz — met the enraged man just as he passed the 
boundary of death, his life was saved. He held a short 
conversation with the Captain, talking what I supposed 
to be the German language. I could plainly see by the 
gestures of the two men they were very much excited. All 
at once the old Captain motioned the man back into camp, 
and as fast as the Captain could walk he proceeded to the 
ration wagon that had just passed through the gate 



92 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

loaded with cooked meal — called mush — that they were at 
that time using. He ordered the wagon out before it was 
unloaded and, stepping upon a box, made the following 
remarks : 

"Men, listen to vat I say ! Py Got I will never issue 
any more rations to you, till you tell who dese men be dat 
ish robbin' you!" 

The key-note had been struck when a man of his own 
nationality was robbed, and help seemed at hand. The 
heads of the institution offered to any man who would 
come out and give the names of all he knew of these men, 
and point them out to the officials, — that he should at once 
be taken out and given a parole oi honor ; — that he should 
have the limits of a mile around the prison, ten dollars in 
greenbacks, and should he the first to go home. 

I for one could have given the desired information, 
but like the rest of my comrades dare not do it. In one 
sense of the word these men were in power, as the physical 
strength of one of them was equal to that of ten of the 
living skeletons whom they oppressed. We did not know 
the strength of the gang, and it was thought by some that 
many among us who appeared all right, at heart were vil- 
lains. Living in the immediate vicinity of the headquar- 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 93 

ters of the gang", I saw and heard all that was going on. 
In about an hour from the time of the robbery, eight rebel 
sergeants walked into the gate, each with revolver in hand, 
and proceeded direct to the large tent headquarters. The 
commander in a stern voice, ordered the inmates to come 
forth. Oh how innocent and ignorant those desperadoes 
appeared ! Up to that moment they had enjoyed the firm 
belief that no man within these walls dared for one mo- 
ment harbor the thought of bringing them to justice. 
Hundreds of men looked on with delight, acknowledging 
that one redeeming act had shown bright upon the pages 
of rebel barbarity. Eight men were taken from this tent 
and marched out of the gate. Upon this, the prisoners 
saw that the "Rebs" were going to aid us in earnest, and 
all arose as one man and pointed the guilty parties out to 
the rebel sergeants as fast as we could discover their 
whereabouts. Thus, about seventy-five Raiders were 
marched out of the gate in less than two hours ; and during 
the remainder of that day and the following forenoon the 
number was swollen to one hundred and twelve. 

The Confederate Government at once sent word to 
our Government stating the facts of the situation, and ask- 
ing what was to be done with these men. Our Govern- 



94 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

ment ordered that they be tried by a jury of our own men, 
and punished as their reason dictated. The next day but 
one, twelve of these men were returned to the prison with 
a ball and chain upon their legs that they were to wear 
during the remainder of their imprisonment; they were 
also to be tried for robbery in our own lines, if the Federal 
GDvernment saw it. The remainder of the gang — except 
ing six of its leaders — were turned back into the camp and 
compelled to run the gauntlet ; two ranks of men, facing 
each other, extended from the gate back into the camp, 
perhaps two hundred feet. These ranks were probably 
fifty deep, as the exciting scene brought thousands of men 
to the spot. The two ranks were armed with sticks, clubs 
and everything with which they could inflict a blow. At 
first, one man ran through at a time, until fifteen or twenty 
had passed, whereupon the gang standing in the gate, 
awaiting their time, made a rush through as one man, 
thereby escaping many blows that would have justly fallen 
upon them had they passed through singly. One man, 
small in stature, and a sailor, drew a dirk knife, as he 
started upon this perilous race, and swinging it to the 
right and left, as he broke through the ranks, badly 
wounded quite a number by the thrusts he so dexterously 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 95 

executed; but he was quickly overpowered and so badly 
injured he lived only a few hours. Two others also lost 
their lives through this mode of punishment. That night 
Andersonville was quiet. The midnight cry of murder, 
so familiar to our ears, was a thing of the past. Ander- 
sonville slept. The following day officers were chosen, 
and a regular police organization was the result. After 
this, woe unto him who fell into their hands and was found 
guilty. 

Gen. Winders" headquarters were for a short time 
one-half mile from the stockade, and although we very 
seldom saw him, it was through his orders that any busi- 
ness of importance appertaining to- the prison was trans- 
acted. 

The latter part of June prisoners were taken out to 
work on the stockade, as an addition to the old stockade 
was found necessary, so many new prisoners coming in 
that it was crowded almost to suffocation. The men who 
worked on the stockade received an extra ration each day 
for their labor. On the first day of July the addition to 
the stockade was completed and opened for the reception 
of prisoners. All detachments above forty-eight were 
ordered to be inside it in two hours, and failing to do this, 



96 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

their blankets, etc., would be confiscated. This then was 
the alternative. Thirteen thousand men must crowd 
through an opening eight or ten feet in width, in this short 
space of, time, or lose their little property so essential to 
their comfort. There was a regular stampede towards 
the open space, and many had to creep in upon their hands 
and knees, being unable to walk, though feeling anxious 
for a change, if only from one prison pen to another, I 
could never fully understand why this order was given in 
regard to the confiscation of blankets in default of our 
moving so quickly, unless it was like so many other acts of 
brutality we were daily subjected to at their hands to 
make us as unhappy and cause us as much suffering as it 
was in their power. 

Quite a number of the First Vermont Cavalry came 
in after the Battle of the Wilderness, and among the rest, 
Brigham and Town oi my own company. They camped 
on the north side of the stockade. One day as I was on 
my way to the north side to visit the Vermont boys, I 
stopped for a few moments to look at a squad of the 27th 
Mass. Volunteers, who had just come in, and were seated 
upon the ground near the brook. My attention was first 
attracted by the remarks of one of the number, who said : 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 97 

"Boys, we will never get out of this place alive. I am dis- 
couraged, and have no heart to try to fix any place to live 
in." Whereupon another member of the party com- 
menced talking to his discouraged comrade, in regard to 
his depressed and forlorn condition, and while he was thus 
speaking, I recognized him as James Miller, of Troy, Vt., 
whom I had not seen since I was ten years of age, I now 
being twenty. I at once introduced myself as a fortune- 
teller, and approaching Miller, offered for a trifling sum to 
reveal to him the hidden secrets of his past history. For 
a moment their present condition was forgotten, and curi- 
osity prevailed. 

"Now is your time, Jimmy," said one. 

"Give it to him gently," exclaimed another. While 
these joking remarks were being made at Miller's expense 
I took from my pocket a small stone that I had two years 
before picked up on the shores of the Chesapeake and, on 
account of its crystal-like appearance, had not thrown it 
away. While looking through this stone, I claimed that 
his past life was revealed, and being well acquainted with 
his people, I at once told him the number of his brothers 
and sisters and the ages of his father and mother. But 

7 



98 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

carrying the joke a little too far, I commenced spelling out 
the Christian names of the family, when Miller sprang to 
his feet, saying: 

"Now I want to know who you are." 
I could not keep from laughing at the excitement he 
exhibited, and so told him my name. He was much 
pleased to meet me, although I was but a boy of ten years 
when he last saw me at my father's house. After this we 
often met, as we visited from one family to the other. The 
physical condition of our family was very good until 
about the middle of June, when four of the thirteen whom 
I designate as "our family" began to fail in health. 

Lieut. Hyde of my company, who passed as a Ser- 
geant, captured at Brandy Station, Oct. ii, 1863, and 
about eight months a prisoner, was suffering from that 
usually fatal disease — in this place — diarrhoea. He was. 
a Free Mason, and from a piece of bone I had made him 
a small scarf pin representing the order — the square and 
compass ; as the poor fellow was so' very destitute of any- 
thing pertaining to the comforts of life, 1 borrowed from 
him the scarf pin, and going to the gate, I handed it out to 
a rebel sergeant whom I had seen wearing the same sym- 
bol, I said : "The man who wears this is lying in a critical 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 99 

condition, and I wish you would kindly call upon him." 
He bowed assent, and during the day came in. Being on 
the watch for him, I at once guided him to where the sick 
man lay. He talked with him an hour or sO' and went out, 
saying he would call again. The next morning he walked 
hurriedly into the Lieutenant's tent, threw down a parcel, 
and walked out. It contained one pair of drawers, one 
shirt, a pair of feeting, some medicine and food. We 
were encouraged by the kindness the rebel Sergeant had 
shown the poor fellow, as the Lieutenant was beloved by 
all his company. But alas! as in many other cases, aid 
came too late; in a few days Lieut. Hyde had become so 
very low that he was taken out to the hospital ; and a few 
hours later a man came in bearing the sad intelligence that 
our comrade was dead, and saying that with farewell mes- 
sages to ourselves, he had requested that his dying love be 
conveyed to his young wife, with his wish that she would 
meet him in heaven. When the Lieutenant fell into the 
enemy's hands he was not recognized as an officer, so 
passed as a private, believing he would be better treated. 
At the time of his death four others of our company were 
very feeble, — Brown, Farnsworth and Jocelyn not being 
able to walk. 

LofC. 



100 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



Chapter VIII, 

In addition to our many sorrows, there were also 
many cases of extreme suffering caused by the use of poi- 
son vaccine. I say poison, as it acted as such, in every 
sense of the word. Soon after our arrival in Anderson- 
ville the report was circulated that there was a case of 
smallpox in camp, whereupon the rebel doctor at once 
came inside and vaccinated two hundred or over, and also 
gave some vaccine to the sergeants of nineties, that all 
could use it who wished. Whether the rebels did this in- 
tentionally or not, we could not say; but it certainly be- 
came a melancholy fact among us. My own experience 
was one not to be forgotten. As soon as the vaccine be- 
gan to work upon my arm I saw there was something 
wrong, as it did not in the least resemble anything I had 
ever seen. My arm was sore for a year, and after healing 
a scar was left as large as a silver twenty-five cent piece ; 
and even now a sharp stinging pain is occasionally felt, to 
remind me of rebel iniquity. I well remember the sad 
condition of one man, who from using the vaccine had a 
sore break out under his arm and eat into his vitals, the 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 101 

opening being large enough to admit a man's hand before 
death came to the rescue. It was nothing strange to see a 
man who had been vaccinated six months, with his arm 
half or two-thirds eaten off, the bare cords exposed to 
view, and only dry, dark colored skin covering the bone. 

THE EXECUTION. 

On the twelfth day of July the six camp robbers were 
brought in and hanged. They had been tried and found 
guilty of robbery and murder. A scaffold had been 
erected on the south side of the stockade, and a noted 
character whom we called "Limber Jim" was chosen to 
act as executioner. The scaffold consisted of two pieces 
of 4x4 joists as uprights, and another 4x6 framed into the 
top of these, from which the six fatal ropes were sus- 
pended. On the inside of each upright was a cleat, nailed 
about six feet from the ground, and from one cleat to the 
other ran a plank, fourteen feet long. This plank was 
sawn apart in the middle, and a prop placed under each 
end, near w^here it was sawn apart. A rope was attached 
to the foot of each prop, and by pulling on the ropes the 
plank would break down where it was sawn. On this 
plank the culprits were to stand, while the executioner, 



102 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

standing upon another plank just in the rear of the trap, 
was to perform the awful work. 

About 2 P. M. Capt. Wirz canie in with the six con- 
demned men. As they advanced to the scaffold they 
halted, and Capt. Wirz spoke as follows : 

"These men have been tried and convicted by their 
own fellows, and I now return them to you in as good con- 
dition as I received them. You can now do with them as 
your reason, justice and mercy dictate, and may God pro- 
tect both you and them." 

The police formed a square around the scaffold, the 
prisoners were conducted inside this, and as a man came 
forward to pinion their arms, one of the prisoners, a large 
muscular-looking man, said, looking up at the suspended 
ropes : 

"I say never go up there!" 

Whereupon he raised his arm, and striking down the 
men in front of him, he rushed through the crowd and 
across the prison, closely pursued by the police. He was 
soon recaptured and returned. During his absence the 
fatal noose had been adjusted, and his five comrades in 
crime were standing upon the drop. Apparently they had 
considered the whole thing a farce until the last moment. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 103 

The Catholic priest was endeavoring to minister to their 
spiritual wants, but the doomed men apparently paid but 
little heed to the consoling words of the Christian man. 
They were asked if they had anything to say. One of 
them said he was guilty of almost any and everything, but 
not of the charges now preferred against him. Another 
told an acquaintance to give his watch to his wife in New 
York, should he live to go out, and not to tell her how he 
died. 

Meal sacks were then drawn over their heads; the 
drop fell and five of the Andersonville robbers were 
launched into eternity. The rope broke, letting the man 
on the left of the scaffold fall to the ground. Pleading 
for mercy, he was again placed under the beam, and 
standing upon the plank occupied by the executioner, was 
pushed off, and "Moseby," the Leader of the Raiders," as 
he was called, with his five criminal comrades, had gone 
the way from whence no traveler returns. After an hour 
they were taken down and carried to the dead-house, the 
timbers were removed, and there was nothing to show 
that the same ground now so peaceably occupied by law- 
abiding people was so short a time before the scene of such 
terrible work. 



104 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

During the months of July and August the heat was 
almost unbearable, and those whose naked feet were ex- 
posed to the hot sand on one side and the burning rays of 
the sun on the other, with no cover or shade, except the 
shadows of night, suffered almost indescribably. I often 
started from where I slept to walk to the brook — a dis- 
tance of fifteen rods — and was obliged to step into the 
shade of some tent, or substitute for one, to keep my feet 
from being blistered. If I stopped for a moment I was 
compelled to remove the surface from the earth on a spot 
large enough to permit my feet to stand upon the cooler 
sand. 

During the month of July two of our family, and of 
my own company, died. Milo Farnsworth, the young man 
I have previously mentioned, rapidly grew worse, and on 
the 1 6th he asked me to^ take a small pocket Bible and 
some pictures, and keep them for him. I do not imagine 
he did this thinking he would go so^ soon, but he was so 
sick he was afraid he might lose them. That night I 
drew his rations for him, and made a little water gruel 
for his supper. Not a very palatable dish for a sick man, 
water and a coarse unsifted corn meal boiled together 
without salt, but such it was, and the last supper the poor 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 105 



boy ever ate. I lay down beside him that night and at 
half past one in the morning I heard the guard on the wall 
cry the hour of the night. I then spoke to Farnsworth, 
asking him to turn from his right side to his left. He did 
so, and I asked him how he was feeling. He replied : "O 
better, I think." As the guard cried the hour of three I 
spoke to him again, and receiving no reply, I lay my hand 
upon his face, and saw at once that the messenger Death 
had again visited our unhappy home, and during the last 
hour and a half that I had slept, had taken my comrade 
from my side. I carefully moved around among the boys 
who were sleeping nearest me, and in a whisper informed 
them of Farnsworth's death. It was not safe to make the 
event known outside of our family, and again go to sleep, 
as his body might be carried off to some other part of the 
camp. The next morning, or a couple of mornings later 
would be safer, as the body could then be carried out and 
the bearers be well paid for their labor with the wood they 
would be allowed to bring in. This was often done, and 
considered a joke rather than a theft. 

Comrade Hull and myself watched by the dead body 
of Farnsworth until daylight. I then cut a curl of hair 
trom his head, and placing it between two leaves of his 



106 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

■ittle Bible, I wrote upon the fly-leaf the date of his death, 
how long he had been sick, etc., and that morning we were 
permitted to carry him to the dead-house. This was the 
first time I had been outside the stockade for over three 
months, or during my imprisonment. We laid our dead 
comrade beside the many emaciated forms that a few 
hours before had been talking of home and comfort, and 
now were waiting the final act, the removal to the grave. 
I asked the guard if he would allow us to gather some 
limbs for wood, and he reluctantly complied. We had to 
vary a little from our direct course to the gate, in order to 
get the wood, as it had been gathered very clean by those 
who preceded us. I was somewhat lame at the time, and 
not being very strong, I fell with the stick I was trying to 
carry. Six months before I would have thought it an 
easy task to carry four such sticks, but starvation had de- 
prived me of strength. As I fell I went over a little bank 
of earth, and I think for a second it startled the guard, as 
he instantly brought his rifle into position, thinking I was 

going to run. He then called me a d d Yankee hog, 

and said I was not satisfied with what I could carry but 
wanted the whole woods. He told me to drop it and move 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 107 



on ; but by begging and pleading, I was finally allowed to 
carry the stick inside. 

On the 24th Frank B. Jocelyn died. He was taken 
prisoner the same night as Farnsworth and myself. Poor 
Frank ! How hard it was for him to die in this place. A 
few days before his death, he was admitted to the so-called 
hospital, but his condition was not in the least benefited by 
the removal, excepting that the chances of procuring a lit- 
tle medicine were more favorable in the hospital. I be- 
lieve he would not have died so soon, had he remained in- 
side with his friends. 

Six of our family, Hyde, Brown, Farnsworth, Joce- 
lyn, Hull and myself, occupied a parcel of ground about 12 
x6 — that is, we slept side by side — six of us — in a row. 
The first of April we selected this piece of ground for an 
indefinite space of time, each man except myself enjoying 
good health at the time, and all seeming confident that the 
near future would deliver us from bondage, and that we 
should again clasp the hands of loved ones, 

"In the freelands of our own beloved homes." 

But alas ! how soon the frail vessel of hope is dashed 
upon the hidden reef. In three short months four of our 
comrades fell victims to rebel barbarity. Only two were 



108 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

left, and Hull soon fell a victim to that loathsome disease 
— scurvy. His teeth became loose, and he could scarcely 
keep them from falling out. 

Nearly twenty-five thousand men were now crowded 
within the narrow walls ; and, as our honored statesman, 
James G. Blaine, has said, "many of them the bravest and 
best, the most devoted and heroic of those grand armies 
that carried the flag of our country to final victory." 

I saw one poor fellow — a German — who, not being 
proof against rebel cruelty, had become hopelessly insane, 
and had torn his clothing from his body. Entirely nude, 
he was stretched at full length upon the burning sand, his 
body actually blistered by the sun. I doubt any sane man 
living one hour in the same situation. His voice could be 
heard half way across the camp, saying : 

"Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ!" 

These were the only words I heard the poor creature 
speak, and his voice gradually grew weaker till his words 
became scarcely audible. At last the old Captain was pre- 
vailed upon to allow him to be placed outside the Dead 
Line, in the shade of the stockade, and there he died in a 
few hours. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 109 

A few Indians belonging to a Western regiment 
were captured and brought into Andersonville. I think 
there were ten or fifteen of them, and in less than ninety 
days, not one was living. The confinement was what 
they could not stand. 

About twenty-five or thirty of the Massachusetts 

colored troops, captured at Fort , were brought in 

the fore part of the season, and a Major belonging to the 
same regiment came with them. Had he belonged to a 
white regiment he would not have been confined in An- 
dersonville, but would have been placed with other com- 
missioned officers. But by holding a commission in a 
"d — d nigger regiment," as the rebs called it, he was con- 
sidered no better. He had received a bad wound in his 
foot at the time of his capture, and when he asked the 
Doctor to dress his wound, I heard the medical gentle- 
man tell him to go to his niggers and get his wound 
dressed, if he wished to have it done. 

Soon after the arrival of the colored troops, an old 
southern planter came in, and looking over the camp, saw 
a colored man among the rest whom he believed was one 
of his slaves escaped from his plantation in 1856. The 
old planter talked with him, but he denied all knowledge 



110 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

of slavery, saying he was born in Massachusetts, which 
statement was vouched for by his comrades. After ques- 
tioning and cross-questioning him, and receiving no sat- 
isfactory reply, the old planter retired, saying that in all 
probability he had ''mistook" his man. But the next day 
proved that he had not so easily relinquished all claim to 
our colored comrade, as he returned with two of the old- 
est slaves on his plantation. The planter's name was 
Samuel Johnson. Arriving at the prison^ he, with one of 
the old negro slaves, was admitted by Capt. Wirz, and at 
once proceeded to the quarters of the colored troops. As 
they were near our own quarters, and we thought it 
strange to see a citizen walk into camp, followed by Capt. 
Wirz and a guard, many of us followed them to see what 
was going on. Walking in among the negroes, the 
planter said to the old slave, 

"Sam, look these men over sharp, and tell me if you 
know any oi them." 

The old man at once assumed all the dignity requisite 
for the imaginary honor conferred upon him, and looking 
as wise as Solomon when he decided to divide the baby 
equally, he devoted some time to rubbing some old brass- 
bowed spectacles, and then gracefully adjusting them, he 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS HI 

slowly looked from one to another until his eyes rested 
upon the man whom the planter claimed as his own. 
Slowly raising his hand, and pointing his finger at him, he 
said, 

"Dat am Sam Johnson's nigger, sure." 

The officer in charge asked for no further proof in 
the matter, and the Mlassachusetts colored soldier who 
had for eight years been at liberty to act, speak, and con- 
demn slavery, again found himself in bondage, and sub- 
ject to the yoke that for three years he had faced death to 
lift from the shoulders of his race. 

A rebel soldier was called in, and at the point of the 
bayonet the man who had faithfully served his country 
and miraculously escaped the Fort Pillow massacre where 
he saw his wounded comrades promiscuously butchered, 
was marched out of the prison gate. 

This man appeared very intelligent, and said to some 
of his comrades before leaving them, that it was not for 
long, as he believed the end of the war was near at hand. 

A.nother colored soldier belonging to the same regi- 
ment, who was captured at the same time, was struck in 
the forehead by a spent ball which just crushed the skull, 
leaving the minie wedged in the bone. I heard him ask 



112 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

a Confederate physician if he would try and extract the 
ball, or in some way alleviate the terrible pain. The 
dashing young Doctor, whose well-fitting new grey uni- 
form, covered with brass buttons, and well polished boots 
and sword bespoke the self-imagined aristocrat, made some 
abusive remark to the poor sufferer, and left him. A few 
days later, as I stood looking at the dead, who were 
brought to the south gate previous to their removal to the 
dead house, I saw the body of the colored soldier who had 
so piteously begged aid of the young rebel Doctor. The 
men who knew the circumstances of the case, unanimously 
denounced the wretch as no better than a murderer, for 
had he removed the ball from the fellow's head, the 
chances were that he would have recovered. In two 
other cases where men were hit in the head by spent balls, 
they recovered when the balls were extracted. One of 
these men, Henry Crow, Company C, 5th Vermont In- 
fantry, recovered from his wound, but was not of a suffi- 
ciently strong constitution to stand the hardships to which 
we were subjected, and on August 26th he died, his grave 
or number, being 4883. 

During the months of July and August, the death- 
rate was appalling; the process of slow starvation, com- 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 113 

bined with the terrible heat that would in a short time 
blister the unprotected parts of our skeleton bodies, were 
horrors that none but demons could endure. For about 
two wefiks during the warmest weather, one hundred and 
fifteen was the average number of deaths each day, which 
is equivalent to one every twelve minutes and thirty-one 
seconds. When the mortality exceeded two hundred, or 
reached exactly that number, which was quite frequently, 
every seven minutes and twelve seconds, a poor, wretched 
mortal, who but a few short months before possessed 
health and happiness, yielded to famine and disease — the 
result of rebel barbarity. 

As new prisioners came in, some would exclaim, "Is 
this hell ?" 

Well might the poor fellows thus christen this place 
of torture, for it had all the appearance of being a God- 
forsaken place. 

Our rations of one pint of coarse unsifted corn meal 
to each man was issued for about two months ; after that, 
we drew cooked rations consisting of a chunk of cold 
mush, the meal being boiled in large kettles, then after 
cooling it was shoveled into capacious boxes, hauled into 

8 



114 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

the prison, and issued to the starving men. This for- 
bidding mixture \vas without salt, but not without fihh 
of almost every conceivable kind. Thousands of sick men 
who would have been under the doctor's care had they 
been in our lines, had this repulsive stuff daily set before 
them, with the alternative, "Partake or die." 

One of the prisoners who was out on a parole of 
honor and saw our food prepared at the cook-house, told 
me that if the boys who kept soul and body together by 
subsisting upon this dirty mixture, knew how it was pre- 
pared, and what foul matter it contained, he believed 
many of them would actually starve to death before they 
would eat it. I begged him to say nothing to the poor 
fellows in regard to the matter, as they already knew too 
much suffering to have another drop added to the cup. 
No ! God forbid that they should know more of the pre- 
concerted cruelty than was actually necessary. 

It was calculated that each chunk of mush was about 
equal to the one pint of dry meal we had previously drawn. 
Had the cooked meal been free from filth, we would have 
preferred it to the dry, but on account of the scarcity of 
wood, we chose the latter. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 115 

Lumps of dry meal as large as the end of a man's 
thumb, Hies, bugs, whole kernels of corn, pieces of bark, 
ashes, coals, hairs, etc., we considered trifling things, for 
those who were not ravenously hungry took time to sep- 
arate the above named seasonings before eating. But 
when filth was purposely added to this already unpalata- 
ble mixture, and that of the vilest and most outrageous 
kind that the human mind can conceive, then God help the 
unfortunates that fell into such hands. Hundreds of 
survivors who passed this trying ordeal, can to-day testify 
to the truth of my assertion. 



116 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



Chapter IX. 

As I stated in the opening chapter of this work, I 
have no intention of placing before the pubHc any state- 
ment that differs from my own personal experiences — 
what I saw, heard and suffered. And with my own well- 
preserved reminiscences of those dark days, and with 
the assistance of a small pocket diary, wherein I daily re- 
corded the heart rending scenes and incidents that came 
under my observation, I now, after more than a third of 
a century, endeavor to draw a true picture of scenes and 
suffering that can never be erased from the minds of those 
who participated in them. 

While speaking of the atrocities perpetrated upon 
Union soldiers when prisoners of war, I must not omit a 
brutal assault upon a young man who belonged to a Mas- 
sachusetts regiment, and was taken prisoner during the 
month of July, 1864. I first met him in Camp Sumter, 
or Andersonville, soon after his arrival at that place. I 
saw him nearly every day during his confinement there, 
and at Florence, S. C. I also came from Charleston to 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 117 

Annapolis, Md., on the same transport, and was with him 
during our stay at Parole Camp. Being very well ac- 
quainted with him, I did not write his name, company or 
regiment in my diary, consequently am unable to give 
them to the reader. But should any ex-prisoner of war 
who was confined at any of the above named prisons dur- 
ing 1864, and was at Parole Camp at Annapolis, Md., in 
the spring of 1865, chance to peruse these lines, he will at 
once recognize by the following narrative the young Mas- 
sachusetts soldier of whom I speak. 

It was one day during the latter part of July or the 
forepart of August, that a squad of new prisoners came 
in, and with them was one whose deformity attracted at- 
tention even in that place. He was about twenty years 
of age, and I should say that previous to his disfigurement 
he was a fine looking young man. One of our family 
who was standing with the crowd at the gate, watching 
the new prisoners as they filed in through the small open- 
ing made at one side of the main gate or door, through 
which all prisoners passed, came hurrying back to where 
the rest of our boys were, and said, "If you will go down 
and look over the new prisoners, you will see a fellow 
whose face is literally cut to pieces." 



118 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

By the expression and apparent excitement of our 
comrade, we reasoned that one of the new-comers was 
terribly wounded, and not waiting to be told more, think- 
ing the man had very recently been wounded, we started 
for the farther end of the camp where the new arrivals 
had assembled. It was not difficult to identify our man, 
for, seated upon the ground, his head bent low, and his 
eyes apparently staring into space, was the one we sought. 
The comrade who first spoke to us of the poor fellow's 
sad condition, did not in the least exaggerate, for no shot 
or shell, sabre or bayonet, ever did its work more effectu- 
ally. He did not appear to care for or hardly to notice 
the terrible surroundings. I made my way through the 
crowd as best I could, each one of the new arrivals being 
busily engaged in preparing a place that would be as dry 
and comfortable as possible. This gang was compelled 
to occupy the swamp, all the higher ground being taken 
up. 

I spoke to one of the men who came with him, and 
was informed that they knew little more of the poor fel- 
low's history than we ourselves. This lot of sixty or 
seventy men had been prisoners about a week or ten days. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 119 



and while en route from the place of capture to Anderson- 
ville, this man had joined them. 

Comrade Hull and I approached the young man and 
spoke to him. At first he did not act as if he felt inclined 
to talk much, but after a little further conversation, he 
told us to come to him the next day, and he would in- 
form us how he came to be so terribly wounded. We 
took hold and gave what assistance we could in leveling 
off the ground, and constructing as good a place as possi- 
ble for him to live in. 

If a fellow had a hole in a bank that he lived in, it 
was spoken of as his "tent." 

The following day we again visited our unfortunate 
comrade, and found him in better spirits, though every 
hour he suffered from his wounds. After giving the un- 
fortunate all the encouragement we could, painting An- 
dersonville in glowing colors, we asked him for his story, 
which I now give to the reader. 

In a skirmish with the rebels near , he was 

taken prisoner. After the skirmish was over, he was 
taken to headquarters, a farm-house, about three miles 
distant. Here he was left for about an hour in a room 
adjoining that in which the rebel officers were assembled. 



120 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

The guard who came with him from the scene of action, 
remained with him in this room during that time, and 
was then reHeved by a rebel soldier who came out of the 
officers' quarters. This new guard was given the pris- 
oner's revolver, and mounting a horse that was saddled 
and standing at the door, he ordered the prisoner to 
march in front of him. Knowing naught of his destina- 
tion, and thinking that possibly other prisoners might be 
quartered in the immediate vicinity, and that it would be 
useless to ask information of his surly, brutal-looking 
guard, he took up his line of march in silence, and waited 
results. He had traveled what he thought might be a 
mile from the house, when he heard the guard, who was 
riding a few paces in the rear, cock a revolver. Looking 
around, he saw the man holding the weapon in his two 
hands, apparently examining it. Knowing the revolver 
was the one that had been taken from him, and believing 
the man was merely examining his prize, he thought 
nothing more of the incident until some five minutes 
later, the sharp report of the same revolver echoed through 
the surrounding woods, which was instantly followed by 
a sharp stinging pain through his body, and a numbing 
or prickly sensation of the lower limbs. He had been 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDvS 121 

shot ! Looking around, he saw his would-be assassin mak- 
ing ready to fire another shot. 

The highway they were traversing ran through a 
pine forest. As he saw his assailant raise his arm to fire 
the second time, he quickly stepped to one side, and swing- 
ing himself around a large tree, just escaped the second 
missile of death, as the ball whizzed past his head. 

Seeing the rebel was determined to murder him, he 
grasped at the last and only chance that presented itself, 
which was to take refuge among the mammoth pines, that 
now seemed to stand as angels of mercy, momentarily 
protecting him from the murderous brute. 

These large trees standing close together, partially 
prevented the assassin from making his shots effective, 
while the poor boy was exerting his fast failing strength 
to keep the trees between him and his cruel assailant. In 
this he succeeded until the last shot had been fired, when 
he sank to the ground, shot through the body, and lying 
at the mercy of the man who had already shown himself 
a fiend incarnate. 

The first shot had passed through the young man's 
body, coming out near the pit of the stomach. The 
other five shots having gone wide of their intended des- 



122 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



tination, the Confederate dismounted from his horse, and 
drawing his sabre he walked up to the wounded boy, who 
was piteously pleading for mercy, and said, "Now you 
d — d Yankee dog, escape from me if you can,"' whereupon 
he dealt the young man a fearful blow across the fore- 
head with his sabre, cutting the flesh from the bone from 
one side of his forehead to the other. 

After repeated blows, supposing he had completed 
his hellish murder, he pulled off the boy's boots and de- 
parted. Not long afterward, a little girl who- chanced to 
pass that way, discovered by a faint moan that the soldier 
was alive, and reported the fact to her mother, the latter 
with an old negro servant conveyed him to her humble 
dwelling. Here he remained in concealment seven 
weeks, being attended by an old physician of the locality, 
when he was discovered by a scouting party of rebel cav- 
alry, and sent to Andersonville. 

Many kinds of business were carried on inside the 
stockade. Men who were capable of commanding regi- 
ments of soldiers, men of education, medical students, 
law students, all sorts of mechanics, and finally, many of 
the bravest, and the best men of the country, mingled 
with that ever-changing mass of humanity. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 123 



Shouting the prices, and extoUing the excellence of 
their merchandise, men could be seen buying, selling and 
exchanging their simple and apparently worthless stuff. 
Things which at these soldiers' homes were daily thrown 
away as worthless, were here carried about by these same 
men, guarded, extolled in quality and value, as if they 
were priceless gems. 

A few razors found their way into the camp, conse- 
quently several barber shops were running full blast most 
of the time. These shops consisted of army blankets 
supported by four small sticks or poles, one at each corner, 
from which was conspicuously displayed the good work 
done inside, together with the price-list, to the passing 
and repassing thousands. The price was usually ten 
chews of tobacco, five cents in greenbacks or one dollar 
in Confederate money. Later two or three dollars was 
the price. 

Many times have I watched the proceedings of these 
men, noting how diligently and earnestly they applied 
themselves to the business that would have been regarded 
as simple and childish had they been in a land where free- 
dom, peace and plenty reigned. 



124 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

Should I tell the reader that such a thing as a beer- 
shop existed in Andersonville, he would in all probability- 
question my truthfulness, but such was actually a fact. 
There was not only one, but more than fifty places in 
different parts of the camp where beer could be bought 
by the glass, pint, quart or gallon. This was made by 
the prisoners from corn meal and water. 

By adding a certain quantity of corn meal to a barrel 
of water, and exposing it to the hot sun for a certain 
length of time, it would ferment, and with the addition 
of a little "black-strap" molasses, and one or two other 
trifling ingredients, quite a palatable mixture was formed. 
Barrels of it were sold to those who were fortunate 
enough to possess a little cash. 

The men who came into the prison with a little money 
and were shrewd enough to commence some kind of spec- 
ulation, something like these mentioned, fared quite well 
as to food and shelter. Some men would sell the clothes 
from their backs, or the shoes from their feet for food. 

I recollect seeing one poor fellow sell his boots for an 
extra ration of corn meal and bacon. A few days later, 
he was not only just as hungry as before, but his tender 
feet being exposed on one side to the hot sand, and on the 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 125 

other to the burning rays of the sun, became blistered, and 
having no shelter, his case was sad indeed. His legs 
were soon badly swollen, and two weeks later I saw the 
body of this same young man, with others, awaiting at 
the gate, the death cart, that conveyed them to their last 
resting place. 

Once, and only once, during my imprisonment, did 
I start upon any kind of speculation. Perhaps once in 
three or four weeks wheat flour would be issued to the 
camp, instead of meal. It was on one of these days I con- 
ceived the idea that I could improve my financial affairs 
and possibly double my stock in trade. This consisted of 
one pint of flour and about one-half pint of corn meal 
that I had kept from my ration the day before, and went 
to bed very hungry by so doing. I selected as good a 
place as I could find to start my store, mixed my meal and 
flour together, and baked it into pancakes, and with a 
shingle in one hand — to be used as a grocery stand — and 
my dish of cakes in the other, I started for the corner 1 
had selected for my business stand. 

For a while, all went as well as could have been ex- 
pected. I had sold about one-fourth part of my cakes 
and felt so much encourag-ed I thoudit I could afford to 



126 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

appropriate a small portion of the food to my own use, 
and then continue my sales. Ah ! but this was one of the 
many, many mistakes the human family are liable to make 
during this short and uneven journey of life. A "finan- 
cial mistake," the boys were wont to call it when they — 
afterwards — would tell the story of how I failed in busi- 
ness; for instead of doing as I intended, partake of a 
small part of my stock, and sell the rest, I failed to govern 
my appetite and devoured everything but the shingle! 

As I walked back to our quarters, one of the boys 
asked me if I had sold out ; all laughed when I replied 
"No, but I have eaten out, and shall now retire from busi- 
ness." I merely mention these trifling incidents that the 
reader may understand how confinement, starvation and 
constant suffering will not only emaciate the body, but 
weaken the mind. The mental condition of the sufferer 
undergoes a change and apparently the characteristics of 
the child prevail. 

Before those who died inside the stockade were re- 
moved to the cemetery, the name, company and regiment, 
also the number of each, was written on a piece of paper 
and pinned to their clothing. Mien who were detailed to 
burv the dead drew an extra ration of corn meal and a 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 127 

quantity of whiskey for doing this gruesome work. Dur- 
ing the first part of the season the dead were taken from 
the prison direct to the place of burial, but later on a dead- 
house was erected outside; and each afternoon the dead 
were carried out to this, where they remained until they 
could be taken to the burying ground. 



128 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



Chapter X. 

It was during the month of August, when one hun- 
dred and fifteen per day was the death rate, and Ander- 
sonville was at its worst, and when many had given up in 
despair, only looking for the grim messenger's approach 
as inevitable, that a young Ohio soldier conceived the idea 
of attempting his escape by being carried to the dead- 
house as one of the dead prisoners. Some eighteen or 
twenty of us knew that the attempt was to be made, there- 
fore we watched proceedings with intense interest. It 
was nearly night; six men were engaged picking up the 
dead, placing them on stretchers, each made of an old 
army blanket wrapped around two small poles. They 
carried their dead comrades past the guard at the gate 
and past any officers or men they might chance to meet 
near the gate or outside. After carrying out thirty or 
forty and seeing no particular notice had been taken by 
the Johnnies,the two boys who had been chosen to carry 
out the "living corpse" as the boys called the young man 
who was to personate the dead Yank, proceeded to his 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 129 

quarters. As it was quite a risky undertaking, the young 
man appeared somewhat nervous when the two men 
called for him at "his tent," as the place rigged up to sleep 
in was called, whether canvas, turf or wood. His hair 
was long and unkempt, his face besmeared with dirt, and 
two strings were tied tightly around his wrists, prevent- 
ing the blood from circulating, thus causing the hands to 
look white and deathlike. He was placed upon the 
stretcher, his white hands placed carelessly across his 
breast, he was turned on one side and his long hair lay 
loosely over his emaciated face. Three or four of us who 
were in the secret were in the "tent" and helped to ar- 
range everything before he was carried out. The poor 
fellow had no comrades from his own regiment, and after 
giving us the name and address of his mother — in case 
he should lose his life — and seeing how he looked in his 
burial outfit, he shook hands with us and again taking his 
position on the stretcher, was carried to the gate. We 
approached the gate ahead of them, and there as usual 
were from fifty to two hundred emaciated, sickly looking 
fellows crowded around the entrance awaiting — they 
knew not what. Four other men approached the gate 



130 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

from some other part of the camp, carrying two dead men 
nearly at the same time. The crowd gave way for them 
to pass. All of those who were knowing to the scheme 
gathered at the gate to see if it all passed off well. The 
three stretchers passed through the crowd almost unob- 
served, the living man occupying the front or foremost 
one. The guard, who stood between the opening in the 
dead line and the gate during such times, was hurriedly 
walking backward and forward, ordering the men to "fall 
back thar," "keep back," etc., when the foremost stretcher 
on the inside, and a mule team coming in after our mush- 
boxes on the outside, approached the gate at the same 
time. As the gate opened the men bearing the living man 
came suddenly in contact with the mule team, and in their 
endeavor to move sideways, the old blanket came off one 
of the poles and the seeming dead man fell to the ground. 
It was so common to see dead men in almost every direc- 
tion that the crowd at the gate thought nothing of seeing 
them thrown around or lying around in any condition, 
therefore when the make-believe dead man fell to the 
ground he acted his part so well that no one but his friends 
knew he was alive. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 131 

As a take-off on the guards, who were always so 
ready to shoot, some one in the crowd jokingly cried out, 
"Shoot him; don't let him get away, shoot him!" where- 
upon the young man, whose nerves were at their highest 
tension, opened his eyes, but the guard fortunately stood 
with his back towards him and did not see his face, while 
one of the men, bending over to adjust the stretcher, in- 
stantly gave him the signal by a grip of the hand, and the 
poor frightened boy closed his eyes again. One of the 
men standing by my side, who was in the secret, whis- 
pered to me: "That was a close call, I fear he will Idc 
caught." 

With teams passing, the men with the stretchers 
going to and fro, together with the crowd at the gate, the 
guard became somewhat "rattled," but when all was quiet 
and going well, he would assume all the dignity of a Rus- 
sian duke. When the stretcher-bearers saw that they 
were not detected, they wound the blanket around the 
podes again the best they could; the "corpse" was laid 
upon it, and without further mishap they arrived at the 
dead-house. They were accompanied by a guard to the 
dead-house, and as the two faithful bearers lay our young 
hero down beside the last man brought in, one of them 



132 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

spread a piece of an old blanket over his face and said in 
a low voice : 

"Have courage, and may God help you." 

"Good bye." 

And stepping back, the other four men, who were not 
in the secret, deposited the two emaciated forms they bore 
beside that of the living man, and at the stern command of 
the guard, "Hurry up thar, Yanks," they left him alone in 
his glory. 

One of the men who assisted in this incident went 
out the following day and found a piece of white paper at 
the northwest corner of the building. The Ohio boy had 
promised to leave such a piece if he successfully escaped 
from the dead-house. Whether he made good his further 
escape, was shot, or taken to some other prison, we never 
knew. 

Quite a number attempted escape by tunnelling out, 
and it was said that a few did succeed in gaining their 
liberty in this way. This was done by those who had 
erected their rude huts near the dead-line. These places 
of shelter were very ingeniously constructed of various 
kinds of material. Some were made wholly of earth, 
some had turf sides and blanket roofs, while others were 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 133 



only holes dug in the side-hill. In these last, two or three 
men lost their lives by the earth caving in on them while 
asleep. Some of these tunnels were started from the in- 
terior of these huts. With a piece of an old shovel-blade, 
or one-half of a water canteen, they would commence dig- 
ging a hole at an angle of forty-five degrees, and large 
enough for one man to work in. When they were sure 
that they were lower than the bottom of the stockade, 
which was five or six feet, they dug in a horizontal direc- 
tion. The man digging lay on his face, passed the dirt to 
the man behind him, that man to the next, and so on, 
until it reached the surface and was carried to the swamp 
or brook in the darkness of night. It was a difficult and 
very uncertain thing, attempting to escape in this way. 
There was danger of the earth caving in upon them, then 
they knew nothing of where tbey would come out. One 
fellow, after he and his comrades had worked for weeks, 
dug up through to see where he was, and was somewhat 
surprised to see two rebel soldiers playing cards! He 
was under the guards' tent, and later when one of the 
"Rebs" fell into the hole, it led to discovery. 

Each morning about six o'clock the Andersonville 



134 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

pack of twelve bloodhounds, led by "Old Spot," encircled 
the prison walls. 

It was the 6th of September, some over seven thou- 
sand men had died, eight out of our mess, or family, had 
been taken, five left of the thirteen who six months before 
had promised to stand by each other. It did not look 
then as if there was going to be a man left to tell the story, 
when suddenly a shout and hurrah was heard near the 
gate, where we saw the men congregating and soon heard 
the cause of the cheering and excitement. One of the 
paroled men had brought in the news that six detachments 
had received orders to pack up and be ready to leave. 
Some said it was a general exchange of prisoners. We 
said it cannot be any worse, if we are even going to an- 
other prison, it will be a change. Capt. Wirz came in 
and said : "The first six detachments will leave here to- 
morrow morning." Some of the men were seen shaking 
hands with their comrades, while the tears ran down their 
sunken cheeks for joy. That night there was no sleep in 
Andersonville. Alas ! little did we think that many of 
those who passed the night in song and cheer, believing 
that deliverance had come, were doomed to end their lives 
in some loathsome den equally as bad as Andersonville. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 135 



The following the day the six detachments were 
marched to the depot, the men were loaded into box cars 
and started for Savannah. We felt sad as we thought of 
our eight comrades left in the graveyard, without a slab 
even to mark their last resting place. We arrived at Sav- 
annah about midnight and were taken from the cars and 
marched some twenty rods to a small ploughed field. 
Here we were kept till morning. The heavy guard over 
us, and which was lined up on either side of the cars as 
we ran into the city, was proof that instead of home, an- 
other prison pen awaited us. The following day we were 
again loaded into cars, sixty men packed into one box car, 
and there we remained until we were unloaded near the 
old race-course at Charleston, S. C. 

It was soon understood by the prisoners that another 
prison pen awaited them, and that the enemy thought it 
unwise to have so large a number at Andersonville when 
Sherman, Wilson and such Yankee generals were at large, 
consequently our removal. The first three days we were 
in Charleston we camped at the water's edge, and could 
plainly see Ft. Sumter and the Island from which our 
men were bombarding the city. When the shells burst 
over the city we could often see them, and then the boys 



136 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

would cheer as the Httle missiles of death made their ap- 
pearance, saying that they came from home. Every fif- 
teen minutes a shell was thrown at Ft, Sumter and every 
ten minutes one was broken in or over the city of Charles- 
ton ; this was done for over four hundred days and nights 
in succession. 

Col. L. C. Leavens, now treasurer of the Richford 
Savings Bank and Trust Company, at Richford, Ver- 
mont, was at that time an officer in the Union Army, com- 
manding troops on Morris Island in Charleston harbor, 
consequently he was unwittingly the cause of making it 
so warm for some of the boys from his own State while 
paying his respects to the people of Charleston. 

While occupying a vacant lot as our temporary camp- 
ing ground we were allowed to go into the water, and 
there was not one minute during the daytime that there 
were not from twenty-five to two hundred men wading in 
the water hunting for oysters. They would wade nearly 
to their arm-pits, and when their bare feet came in con- 
tact with the coveted prize, and it was too far below the 
surface to reach with the hand, then down went the man 
out of sight, and up came the oyster. If it proved to be 
a genuine find it was safely deposited in the hungry fel- 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 13T 



low's pocket while he continued his prospecting. The 
second day we occupied this camp your humble servant, 
wet, cold and tired, picked his way shoreward ; and the old 
hat before mentioned contained twenty-three of these 
valuable fellows. At night we fell back from the water's 
edge and a guard was posted between us and the water. 
One day a piece of square timber, some three feet long 
and 12 or 14 inches square, was floating around, the boys 
pushing it through the water from one to the other in 
play. A fellow who belonged to a Wisconsin regiment 
said: "When the men are called in to-night, you may 
know that I am standing in the water up to my neck, my 
head hidden from view behind that block of wood, my 
hands grasping each end to keep it in front of my face, 
and as soon as dark I will use it to help keep me afloat and 
will strike out for the lights on Morris Island." Just 
before dark we were ordered back from the water, and 
when the men were counted it was found that one man 
was missing. It was too dark to see the block of wood, 
even had they mistrusted that one of their Yankee prison- 
ers had converted it into a transportation craft. The 
block of wood was not in sight the next morning, neither 
was the Yank, and the following morning when some of 



138 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

the Johnnies were speculating as to his whereabouts, one 
of the boys who had prayed for his safe arrival at Morris 
Island, said : "In all probability he has drowned himself 
to save his life." From this camp we were removed to 
the race-course ; here we remained for eleven days. Dur- 
ing that time five of the prisoners were quite badly 
wounded by shells from our own guns. After giving us- 
a taste of that of which they were obliged to make a full 
meal, they again put us on board a freight train and we 
were removed to Florence, S. C, one hundred and three 
miles distant. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 139 



Chapter XL 

We arrived at Florence, S. C, on the evening of the 
17th, and were taken from the cars and formed into Hne 
on the railroad track. After we were counted by the ofifi- 
cer in charge, we were marched about a mile in the direc- 
tion of the new stockade, which at that time was nearing 
completion. There were about one hundred and fifty 
slaves doing the work. As the Southerners did not wish 
to put any men inside the stockade until it was finished, 
the six hundred prisoners were halted about a half mile 
from it, and went into camp. A level piece of ground in 
an open field was selected for this camp, and two acres of 
ground were marked out in a square and a heavy guard 
was thrown around us. 

We were situated near what appeared to be a large 
woods, one side of the camp extended to within about fif- 
teen rods of its border. Two pieces of artillery were 
placed in a position commanding its side nearest the 
woods. The guards who came with us from Charleston 
were placed on duty over us. Having served two or three 



140 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

years in the field, they did not consider it an everlasting 
honor to shoot a defenceless foe for the most trifling of- 
fense, as we had been accustomed to see guards do at An- 
dersonville. These guardians around our little camp 
were placed in such a position that no prisoner could ap- 
proach or cross their beats unobserved. No sooner was 
it ascertained by the prisoners that another Andersonville 
pen was awaiting them than a portion of the healthiest of 
them began to plan some mode of escape. To effect this 
they must either make a break for liberty in a body, or 
those who were able must run the guards under cover of 
the night; but if this latter plan was adopted, few could 
escape before the guards would be doubled, thus putting 
an end to all hopes of liberty until the dreaded prison 
doors should be thrown open to receive us. 

Upon the third day this camp was occupied, it was 
rumored that the stockade was completed and that by 
night we would take up our quarters within its walls. It 
was a dull, cloudy day on the 20th, a cold, drizzling rain, 
sufficient to wet the ground, and the few dirty rags which 
but partially covered our bodies did not in the least enliven 
our prospects. The shades of night were falling. Com- 
rade Hull and I stood side by side, discussing the probabil- 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 141 

ity of living through the winter, should there be no ex- 
change of prisoners, when our attention was attracted by 
the report of a musket on the side of the camp nearest the 
woods. This was followed immediately by two more 
shots in rapid succession, and by a yell from the prisoners, 
who were all moving in the direction of the firing. I can 
give a vague illustration of this mass of moving humanity 
by comparing it to the breaking away of a boom strung 
across a river allowing a large quantity of logs to slowly 
move down the stream, with no uniform system. My 
comrade and I moved with the others, and as we neared 
the boundary of the camp the true character of the situa- 
tion was no longer a mystery, as we beheld a squad of 
prisoners exerting themselves to their utmost in the at- 
tempt to capsize the two pieces of artillery, while others 
were seizing the guards and relieving them of their arms. 
I recollect hearing but three shots fired during the 
break, although a few scattering shots were heard in dif- 
ferent directions for two or three hours after the breal< 
was made. As the prisoners made a rush for the point 
indicated, of course all the guards who retained their arms 
— and that was nearly all of them — could have opened 
fire upon them ; but for reasons best known to themselves. 



142 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

their fire was withheld. In less than five minutes from 
the report of the first gun, not a man who could walk was 
left on the ground. Hull and I struck for the nearest 
point of woods. I said to him, as we entered the thicket : 
"Let us keep as near each other as we can." We did so 
for a few minutes, one walking behind and as near as pos- 
sible to the other, but we were unable to continue our 
flight in this way, as it was so dark in the thick growth 
of underbrush that we were compelled to move by the 
sense of feeling altogether, and to keep our hands before 
our eyes to guard against the limbs and small bushes 
which were constantly slapping us in our faces. We con- 
sequently separated a little, all the time talking to each 
other that we might know by each other's voice where we 
were and the direction we were taking. 

The woods were filled with men, each poor wretch 
striving to gain a few steps in the direction of — he hardly 
knew where. For the first thirty minutes, men could be 
heard talking in every direction. The main enquiry was : 

"To what regiment do you belong?" 

While listening to the shouting of the men, intent 
upon their questions, answers, etc., Hull and I had neg- 
lected to speak to each other for perhaps five minutes, and 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 143 

then when I called to him I received no answer. Finding 
we had become separated, I shouted at the top of my 
voice, but if heard and answered, I could not distinguish 
his voice from many others who would respond. While 
I was calling the name of my lost comrade, a man who 
was near me, although I could not see him, asked me my 
name, company and regiment. I told him, and he at once 
picked his way through the brush to where I was, and told 
me he belonged to a Wisconsin regiment, but formerly 
lived in Enosburgh, Vt. When I informed him I was 
from Fairfield, an adjoining town, we at once agreed to 
form a little party of our own. We sat down upon an 
old log and talked the matter over. His name was 
Orange Ayers, a man about thirty years old. As soon as 
I made up my mind that Comrade Hull and I were not 
likely to accompany each other during that night at least, 
I made the proposition to my newly- found friend that if 
he would travel very slowly, I would endeavor to stay 
with him until the following day, and if by that time my 
bare feet should fail to stand the rough usage to which 
they would be exposed, he might go on and leave me. 

He accepted my ofifer, and at the same time told me 
not to build any air castles founded upon hopes of liberty, 



14:4 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



as in all probability we would be safely lodged within the 
new stockade inside the next twenty-four hours ; and ex- 
plained that it would be almost impossible for us to make 
our way through to our own lines. In the first place, we 
knew nothing of the geographical points of the country 
we must pass through. We could not tell North from 
South, excepting what we might learxi from the stars, and 
those celestial orbs were refusing to guide us, their bright 
rays being cut off by the dark clouds hanging over, and 
in their way, shutting out from the poor wanderer's heart 
the last spark of comfort that might have been derived 
from their beauty. 

My feet had become somewhat hardened by exposure 
to sun, air, heat and cold, and although constant contact 
with stones, sticks, briars and brambles caused intense 
suffering, it was trifling compared to what it would have 
been had my feet been protected by shoes during my im- 
prisonment previous to this pedestrian trial for liberty. 
A little rain fell at intervals during the entire night, and 
if we halted for a few moments' rest, our bodies would 
become so chilled that it was with difficulty we resumed 
our march. My comrade was much better clothed than 
I was, as he had been a prisoner but three and a half 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 145 

months and his clothing was not taken from him when he 
fell into the enemy's hands, as mine had been. His shoes, 
though considerably the worse for wear, were worth more 
than their weight in gold, as my comrade said the follow- 
ing morning. I did not have clothes enough on me for a 
gun wad; what little there was left of the trousers and 
shirt which I had constantly worn for the past eight 
months, night and day, only partially covered my limbs. 
I remember making the remark during the night that it 
would not be a difficult thing for the hounds to follow us, 
as my feet and knees were bleeding so freely from the 
scratches and bruises they were all the time receiving. 
We reasoned that there would not be a thorough search 
made before morning, as no rebel would be foolish enough 
to enter that dark and dismal forest until light appeared, 
so we had but little to fear of being disturbed except by 
the reptiles with which the woods abounded. As often 
as every hour I would call the name of Comrade Hull as 
loudly as I could. The first part of the night quite a 
number would answer me, but toward morning no one 
would respond to my cry, from which I inferred that the 

men were becoming further separated. Probably some 

10 



146 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

had given out, while others who were stronger were far 
out of hearing in advance. We moved just fast enough 
to keep from suffering with the cold. Had my clothes 
been as good as my comrade's, we might have curled up 
under some tree top and obtained a little rest and sleep, 
but as it was, we moved on together talking of home and 
what the future had in store fcr us. Oftimes during this 
long-to-be-remembered night of pain and suffering, we 
would start for a moment and the beating of our hearts 
could almost be heard as a hare or some other small ani- 
mal would leap from his lair and bound away in the dark- 
ness. 

"What would our friends in the far away North say 
could they behold us in this dismal swamp, struggling 
against such discouraging prospects of gaining our lib- 
erty?" 

These and many other useless questions were asked 
to break the monotony of that dreadful night, until the 
first welcome rays of light told us that one more night had 
passed, although our suffering had been by far greater 
than upon any other night since our incarceration. We 
could say we had passed one night with no guard except 
the all-seeing eye of Him who watches over us in freedom 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 147 

and bondage, in sickness and in health, and against whom 
prison walls or the gates of the prison Hell cannot prevail. 
Never did the light of day look so beautiful, and never 
was it more thankfully received than it was on the 21st 
day of September, 1864. We could judge nothing of the 
distance we had travelled. During the night we crossed 
a small stream, not wide enough to prevent our stepping 
over it, but the depth we found to be about three feet. 
We had proof of this, as we both stepped in together. 
There are many of these small sluggish streams in Geor- 
gia and South Carolina, which flow so lazily through 
those swampy lands that their course can hardly be dis- 
cerned. After it had become fairly light we seated our- 
selves upon an old log and made a breakfast of about a 
half pound of corn bread which Ayres had wrapped in an 
old rag he had taken from his pocket. This we relished, 
although it was made of coarse, unsifted corn meal and 
water, without salt. The only trouble was the scarcity of 
the article. 

As our present location was swampy and wet, we de- 
cided to move around until we could find a rise of ground 
which would be a more agreeable camping place until 
night. We did not consider it advisable to travel during 



148 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

the day, as we were so near the prisons and so many es- 
caped prisoners were swarming the coimtry that we rea- 
soned we were likely to meet with a searching party at 
any moment. We moved about a fourth of a mile and 
found what we considered as good a place as we would be 
liable to find, when we heard the bark of a dog. We 
knew by the sound it was not the howl of a bloodhound, 
so we at once made up our minds to reconnoitre a little, 
for perchance we might hear or see something to our ad- 
vantage. As we moved carefully along in the direction 
from which the sound came, we saw an opening through 
the trees, and proceeding around the outskirts of the 
woods, we discovered a large farm house surrounded by 
?. number of negro cabins. We at once selected a position 
from which we obtained a commanding view of the dwel- 
lings, and here we waited and watched for any move of 
their occupants. We had not long to wait, for in a few 
moments an old negro woman came out of one of the 
cabins with a basket on her head and one in each hand 
and proceeded directly toward us. When she had ap- 
proached to within a few rods of our hiding place, she 
halted near a small pile of chips and began to fill her bas- 
ket. For a few moments we did not know what course 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS U9 

to pursue. I finally made the proposition to my comrade 
that I should fall back into the thicket a few steps, while 
he — the sight of his wardrobe not being so likely to create 
a panic among the negroes — might make himself known 
to any of the colored people whom he could see around 
the premises, and at the same time endeavor to obtain any 
article of food or wearing apparel that he could appropri- 
ate to our own special use. I could particularly appreci- 
ate the clothing, let it come as it might ; in fact, I had be- 
come so destitute of clothing I could not approach a house 
without causing the inmates, either black or white, to 
flee from me in fright. For this reason, if for no other, 
I needed the clothing more than the food, though we 
were both suffering from hunger. Cautiously stepping 
from the thicket and looking around to make sure that 
the old negro was the only person in sight, and that one 
of the cabins would hide him from view should the people 
in the big house be up and astir, he said : 

"Aunty, have you seen anything of a stray mule 
around here?" 

The old woman rose to her feet and placed her hands 
before her face for a moment, and then clasping them 



150 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



together exclaimed: "O Lor, Massa, dint you-uns scar dis 
ole nigger!" 

"Don't be frightened, Aunty ; I am a friend and want 
to talk to you for a few moments," he said. He beckoned 
to her to come near him so she could understand what he 
had to say, and so she could not be seen by any one who 
might be looking in that direction, and then told her he 
was a Yankee soldier, fighting to free the slaves, and un- 
less she could give him food and clothing for his sick 
comrade, he must die in the woods, thus eliciting her sym- 
pathy in every way he could. This was the first time she 
had seen a live Yankee, and her curiosity had been grati- 
fied and her fears allayed. She returned to her cabin, 
but not before she had expressed her admiration for a 
Yankee "Soger" by the repeated exclamations: 

"Is you-uns a real Yankee soger? "O Lor! O Lor! 
save us !" "You-uns ain't so ugly as we-uns spects you 
was, and no horns either." "O Lor! O Lor!" 

Such were the words of the poor ignorant creature 
as she returned to her humble cottage, with the Christian 
determination to divide her scanty allowance with an un- 
fortunate fellow being; an allowance which her aristo- 
cratic owners would deprive us of. Yea, they were en- 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 151 

deavoring to take from us that which God hath made 
dearest to mankind — his Hfe. In a few moments the old 
negro woman returned with "hoe cake," eight or ten 
sweet potatoes, a small piece of bacon, also a few rags 
from which your humble servant at once made a selection 
sufficient to greatly improve his wardrobe. After I had 
bandaged my feet and legs with pieces of the old worn- 
out garments, using the old coat sleeves for leggins, I 
considered myself in better condition than at any time 
during my imprisonment, although I was yet lame from 
the wounds I had received seven months before. But I 
was nowise so badly crippled as I had thought the past 
night would cause me to be. We at once set out intent 
upon selecting a camping ground for the day, in as safe a 
quarter as we could find, as we did not think it prudent to 
allow ourselves to be seen by either black or white people 
more than was actually necessary. We made our way 
around this plantation, and into another large tract of 
timber land on the opposite side. After travelling some 
two miles, we made a halt and selected a wind-fall of 
trees for our resting place. Here we were entirely hid- 
den from view. From the old colored woman we had 



152 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

obtained a few matches, with her assurance that the "suf- 
fer" (sulphur) "is mity near gone." As near as she could 
"reckon" we were "a right smart distance from where 
they were making a new stockade for Yankees." 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 153 



Chapter XII. 

We reasoned that the distance was about three miles. 
After gathering what dry leaves and moss we could from 
beneath the old logs and fallen trees, we made us a bed 
that would have been considered "A., No. i" had we 
owned it in Andersonville, or could we have retired with 
no fear of being roused by bloodhounds. In this place 
we remained undisturbed until night, when we again took 
up our march under circumstances of more favorable ap- 
pearance than those of the past twenty-four hours. For 
one thing we had provisions, and although they were poor, 
they were sufficient to sustain life for the next twenty- 
four hours, and would enable us to retain for a while what 
little strength we had left, yet we could easily have eaten 
them all for our supper and retired with no danger of our 
rest being disturbed by the nightmare, and for the time 
being my limbs were partially protected. We had a few 
matches, and the dark clouds which had hidden the sun, 
moon and stars for the past two days and nights, casting 
a gloom over our already forlorn situation, had passed 



154 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

away ; and as darkness came on, the stars one by one came 
out, filling the canopy of Heaven with their beauty, and 
the poor wandering soldiers' hearts with gratitude. We 
traveled this night without molestation, and rested the 
next day without hearing or seeing anything of other 
prisoners or of the rebel scouting parties which we knew 
were scouring the country in search of runaways. That 
night we took the North Star for our guide, and set out 
in a northerly direction, avoiding all highways and con- 
spicuous places, where guards were most likely to have 
been posted. It was about twelve o'clock when we came 
to a small stream which was fordable, although the water 
came nearly to our arm-pits in mid-stream. Soon after 
passing this stream, we were startled by a voice directly 
in front of us, and a challenge was given : 

"Halt, who comes there?" 

What to do or what to say to this sudden interruption 
was, for a moment, beyond our comprehension. We at 
once fell back a few paces under cover of some trees and 
asked each other, "What is to be done?" Not receiving 
an answer, the challenger repeated his challenge. The 
river cut off our retreat in the direction we had come, so 
we grasped at the only chance left us and returned to the 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 155 



river bank, which was quite high and steep at this point, 
and proceeded down stream, hoping in this way to elude 
those who had so unexpectedly barred our way. As we 
believed, "discretion is the better part of valor," we re- 
treated down stream as fast as we could, until we came 
upon a squad of five men a few feet of us. They were 
standing upon the bank, and again one of the party asked : 

"Who goes there?" 

As we must now say something, my comrade an- 
swered : 

"A friend." 

"Advance friend, and give us a piece of doger" 
(corn bread). 

As this was said, we heard a low laugh among them 
and we knew we were among friends. These men proved 
to be escaped prisoners and all belonged to a Michigan 
cavalry regiment. They knew but little more of the 
other escaping men than we did. From where they had 
been in hiding during the previous day, they had heard 
several challenges given and quite a number of shots fired. 
This was indisputable evidence that the Rebs were mak- 
ing every effort to recapture us, and there was not a 
shadow of doubt that the poor starving Yankees would 



156 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

exert themselves to the utmost to retain their liberty as 
long as possible. 

Our new comrades were without any kind of food 
and had nothing since they had started on this "trust luck 
journey," as one of our party called it. Trusting in God 
for our next mouthful of food, we divided what we had 
into seven equal parts. We left the main road and stopped 
to rest for a few moments and decide whether it would be 
advisable to keep together or to separate. It was finally 
decided to keep together for the remainder of the night 
and the following day, and should fortune favor us until 
the next night, we would again separate. Again we 
slowly moved along, keeping as near each other as pos- 
sible. Some of the way we travelled in the fields, and all 
the time kept a lookout for anything we might run across 
that could be converted into food. Slowly we picked our 
way along, until about three o'clock in the morning, when 
we came in sight of a large farm house surrounded by 
several outbuildings. After holding a short consultation 
among ourselves, we decided that two of our number 
should reconnoitre the premises and that if they could find 
anything in the provision line, we would borrow it until 
we should come that way again. One of the Michigan 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 157 

fellows and I were detailed for the business, while the 
other five were to keep in the immediate vicinity of the 
dwellings in case their services should be needed. Think- 
ing we might find some sweet potatoes on some piece of 
ground under cultivation, finding nothing in the garden, 
we looked for a smoke house. This we soon found, but 
the next thing was to find what was inside that we 
needed. The people, not expecting us, had not even left 
an axe, bar or any other tool that we could substitute for 
a key. We looked around among the negro quarters and 
found an old axe and a small iron kettle at one of the 
cabin doors. We at once proceeded to use the axe in such 
a way that it made us masters of the situation in a very 
few moments. We borrowed a small ham and about ten 
pounds of bacon, and while we were endeavoring to ar- 
range things around the smoke house to obliterate as 
much as possible the proof of our visit, we heard the re- 
port of a rifle on the opposite side of the house. Not- 
withstanding this shot was not meant for us, we did not 
wait to find out whom it might be who were having such 
marked attention paid them at that time of night, but 
with the smoked meat and the little iron kettle we made 
our way, as quickly as we could, to the edge of the woods. 



158 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

where we were to meet our comrades. As we approached 
the place designated, we saw our five friends making their 
way to the same point as fast as possible. We were not 
long in learning the cause of the shot we heard while we 
were at the smoke house. Three of the five comrades 
who were left on the reserve, while the Michigan man and 
myself were rifling the smoke house, had formed another 
foraging party and were examining the hen house, when 
they were suddenly apprised of the fact that their presence 
was of an annoying nature. At least they imagined such 
to be the case when a minie ball whizzed by them from 
one oi the windows, but they had already secured three or 
four heavy chickens, which they were very careful not to 
lose. We at once held a hasty consultation and con- 
cluded we had better get away from there as soon as we 
could. We did not believe that the shot was fired by any 
inmate of the house, but made up our minds it would nat- 
urally be known for miles around that the country was 
full of escaped prisoners. This fact we thought would 
so frighten the inhabitants they would have a safeguard 
placed over house and property, until the escaped prison- 
ers had been recaptured or had passed out of that vicinity; 
and most likely it was one of these guards who fired. We 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 159 

again pushed on through the woods, endeavoring to place 
as great a distance as possible between us and the farm 
house before light. We walked as fast as we could for 
perhaps three-quarters of a mile, and just as day was 
dawning we emerged from the woods into a large field. 
As there were no buildings in sight, we hastened on across 
this field and into another large body of woods. Here 
we arranged as comfortable quarters for ourselves as we 
could. We divided our little squad into three reliefs and 
allowing the seventh man to act as sergeant of the guard, 
we posted two men, one on each side, about twenty rods 
from us to keep a lookout, so that we should not be taken 
by surprise. While the first relief was standing (about 
two hours as near as we could judge), the rest of us built 
a fire under an old root to hide the smoke as much as pos- 
sible. After we had broiled and boiled enough chickens, 
ham and bacon for our breakfast, we cooked what re- 
mained, and when we separated, it was equally divided. 
We took turns watching and sleeping during the day. As 
soon as dark we resumed our march, and although we 
were foot sore and lame, we felt thankful we had up to 
this time escaped the many difficulties we had expected 
would present themselves during this our almost hopeless 



160 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

push for freedom. About midnight the howling of the 
dreaded bloodhounds was plainly heard in the distance. 
As the noise came froni an easterly direction, we reasoned 
they were not on our track, for, as near as we could judge, 
we had most of the time been travelling north. After 
we had listened to the brutes for some thirty minutes, 
their howls ceased, and we made up our minds that some- 
one had been recaptured and that perhaps when the brutal 
man-hunters ceased their noise some poor suffering form 
was being torn by their cruel fangs. Soon after this we 
sat down upon the grass at the edge of a small field and 
partook of a midnight supper, and although it consisted 
wholly of boiled ham, it was preferable to our third part 
of a pint of corn meal, such as had been our allowance for 
the past seven months. This being the fourth night we 
had been on the march, some of us could with difficulty 
stand upon our feet, for they had become very tender and 
sore. One fellow had a half worn out pair of boots ; cut- 
ting the legs off, he gave them to his comrade, who by 
cutting them a little and using elm bark in place of a 
"waxed end," in a very short time had a very good 
protection for his feet. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 161 

It was drawing toward the close of the fourth night 
when our Httle party separated. We set out in nearly the 
same direction, they bearing a little to the left and Ayers 
and I a little to the right. We all considered this the 
wiser course, although the following day when my com- 
rade and I were curled up under an old fallen tree top in 
a dark and dismal South Carolina swamp, I said I really 
wished we had all kept together. This was a long dreary 
day for us; we had but little food, and I was suffering 
from the many wounds I had received upon my nearly 
nude feet, legs and arms. I suffered much more physical 
anguish than my comrade, as his clothing partially pro- 
tected him from the many sharp-pointed sticks, stones, 
briers and stubbles along the route. 

As yet, we had come in sight of no villages and but 
a few farm houses. The fourth night, to add tO' our dis- 
comfort, the clouds hid the stars and moon that for the 
past two nights had gladdened our hearts with their lus- 
ter. On, on, through the darkness and solitude of the 
night we must wend our way. We stumbled along as 
best we could, falling against rocks and over logs, with 
nothing for company but the barking of a distant watch 

11 



162 OVER THE DEAD UNE 

dog, the fluttering of a frightened bird, or the noise of 
some animal as it bounded away in the darkness. The 
intense pain in my injured limbs became almost unbear- 
able. I told my comrade once during the night I thought 
I must give up, and he must leave me and go on alone. 
He would not listen to this, but gave me all the encour- 
agement he could, proposing to find as comfortable a place 
for me as possible, and while I was resting he would scout 
.around and endeavor toi obtain food and return to me. 
Fearing, however, that the hounds would come upon me 
in my helpless condition, and very well knowing the con- 
dition I would be in, if I rested and allowed my muscles 
to relax, I exerted both mental and physical strength to 
their utmost and kept up until morning. As soon as 
dawn we fell back into the woods some little distance from 
the fields, and selecting a good place for a camping ground 
gathered dry moss and boughs and in a shpj't time con- 
structed a very respectable bed. We made a breakfast of 
about one-half pound of boiled ham. This was all the 
provisions we had left, and Ayers suggested that I should 
remain where I was while he tried his luck by daylight in 
hunting for food. As he left me that morning, fearing 
something would prevent his returning, I remarked that 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 163 

if he should reach Florence within the next twenty-four 
hours, he could say that if my presence was required they 
would be compelled to send some kind of a conveyance for 
my use. It did not seem quite so hard to remain in the 
woods alone in the day time, as it would have seemed in 
the night, but by day or night it was lonely enough. I 
can assure you that the danger incident to travelling in 
the woods in an unknown country, hungry, foot-sore and 
lame, in constant fear of being hunted down like wild 
beasts, and that by savage bloodhounds, was not the only 
misery that constantly beset our perilous undertaking 
while traversing these dark and dismal swamps. We 
were all the time in danger of running across some of the 
poisonous reptiles that exist in and around these places. 
While standing with my bare feet upon an old log in the 
darkness of the night, I would often imagine I could feel 
it move under me, and that I was standing upon the back 
of a monstrous alligator; or that while apparently stand- 
ing upon some moss-covered stick or limb, it would prove 
to be a huge snake preparing to strike its poisonous fangs 
into my unprotected limbs. 

It was nearly mid-day; I had formed in my mind 
many difficulties and misfortunes that had befallen my 



164: OVER THE DEAD LINE 

brave and noble comrade, when looking in the direction 
of a noise made by the breaking of a twig, I saw him 
looking around in search of me. He had not been par- 
ticular in noting the spot where he left me, consequently 
had been searching for me for the past two hours or more. 
He informed me of what he considered our good luck. 
While in search of a farm house he came upon an old 
negro in the woods. He was loading wood on a cart 
and with a dejected looking mule was hauling it to a farm 
house about a half mile distant. At first the old man 
seemed somewhat frightened at the sudden appearance of 
a stranger, but after Ayers talked to him a while and told 
him who he was, the old man told him all about the owner 
of the small farm where he belonged, and his family, and 
promised to assist us all he could as soon as dark that 
night. Ayres procured no food, but the old negro had 
promised to meet us and provide us with something to eat 
and with shelter until my wounded feet should become 
healed so I could walk. We talked the matter over dur- 
ing the day, and decided to run the risk of accepting the 
kind offer, although it was quite a risk to run. I do not 
think my comrade would have accepted the hospitality of 
our colored friend, had it not been for my helpless condi- 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 165 

tion ; but not wanting to leave me to the mercy of the wild 
beasts, or bloodhounds, he would take his chances with 
me. and together we would escape or again realize the 
horrors of rebel cruelty. About one hour after dark we 
met the old negro at the appointed place. He was not a 
slave, but his wife and children were born and reared in 
slavery, and he lived with and worked for the man who 
owned them. At this time the owner and proprietor was 
a lieutenant in the Confederate Army. His son, 12 
years of age, and daughter of ten, with the mother, were 
away on a visit, and were not expected home for a week 
or ten days. This was surely in our favor, and if the 
negroes could be trusted we were all right until the 
needed rest could be obtained. The Southern slave pos- 
sessed the characteristics of a child. The child may com- 
mit any petty offense unknown to the parent, but when 
that parent demands of the erring one the whole truth, 
and that demand is made under the uplifted rod of cor- 
rection, the desired result is at once obtained. Thus our 
safety in a great measure depended upon the intellectual 
development of those under whose guardianship we were 
for a few hours to place ourselves. 



166 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



Chapter XIII. 

Should any man, especially a soldier, demand of a 
slave a true statement as to what he might have seen or 
heard regarding any escaped prisoners, and accompany 
that demand with a threat or perchance a blow or a kick, 
the chances were that the negro would at once reveal all 
he knew about the prisoners and their whereabouts. But 
we must run all chances, and I must here acknowledge 
that my comrade accepted these risks entirely on my ac- 
count. Had he been alone, he would in all probability 
have rested only during the day and moved on north as 
fast as possible at night, though in any event his chances 
of making his way through to our lines were not very en- 
couraging. I fully appreciated his kindness to me, for 
had he left me in the condition I was in, I could have done 
nothing but throw myself upon the mercy of the people, 
and the result of that can be easily comprehended. We 
were at once conducted to the negro's cabin. We saw 
arrangements had been made for our reception and safety. 
There were about twenty slaves on the plantation, but our 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 167 

benefactor, whose name was Johnson, his wife and five 
children were to be the only members of the colored popu- 
lation who should know of our presence. My comrade 
and I were told by the negroes that we were to occupy the 
upper part of the cabin. In this room were two rude 
cots; one of them stood in one corner, and was partially 
hidden by a couple of old blankets hung from the rafters. 
This cot we were to occupy for the night, unless some 
rebel soldier or patriotic citizen should discover our peace- 
ful abode. Adjoining the cabin was a small wood shed. 
There was no chamber in the shed, but from one rafter to 
another were nailed pieces of boards and on these braces 
or overlays were three or four boards placed side by side. 
By lifting up a short board hung upon leather hinges on 
the gable end of the house, a man could crawl through 
and out on to these boards and hide himself entirely from 
view, and no one would suspect that anyone was lying 
on these, so near the peak of the roof. 

These arrangements had been made by the negro and 
his wife after Ayers had met him in the morning, and the 
windows of the cabin had been darkened. \ warm sup- 
per awaited us, and doubtless they believed all we said 
regarding our appetites, as the five or six black faces were 



168 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

turned toward us, while the hot corn bread, fried bacon 
and sweet potatoes disappeared from the board as by 
magic. We learned that no prisoners had been seen, but 
that during the past few days two squads of cavalry and 
one of infantry had passed. All had inquired about fugi- 
tives. They instructed the negroes to tell their young 
master upon his return to keep a sharp lookout for Yanks 
and report to headquarters at Florence, bringing any 
whom he, or any of the citizens of the surrounding coun- 
try, might capture. At the same time, they told them not 
to feed any Yankee, for after eating his food a Yankee 
would murder a black man merely for the fun of it. This 
was policy, of course, for the Confederates, as they knew 
that the escaped prisoners must call on the colored people 
for assistance, as there was not one white man or woman 
in a thousand who would not betray the soklier should 
starvation drive him to their doors. It could be plainly 
seen that a free born negro's intellectual abilities were 
superior to his brother in bondage, although he was mis- 
used and despised because he was not a slave. Then hav- 
ing been born and brought up among slaves, hi':' wife and 
children slaves, he really knew but little of freedom except 
that he was born free and that according to law the white 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 169 



man could not sell him or inflict punishment upon him. 
But there was small chance for a free born negro to elicit 
the sympathy of the people or obtain justice in the courts 
on account of abuse inflicted upon him by ev-n the most 
degraded of the white population; but one of the other 
slaves entered Johnson's cabin during the evening, and 
he was the eldest man on the plantation, having been born 
the property of the present owner's grand-parents, on the 
same farm, eighty years before. The other iniiabitants 
of the quarters had been told that "Mrs. Johnson was 
mighty 'flicted dis ere ebnin" and could'nt be "sturbed," 
and our old friend chuckled as he informed us c t what 
appeared to him a shrewd device to prevent the others 
from entering his cabin during our stay. The old man 
who called was a ruling spirit in the church, among the 
slaves of this and adjoining plantations, and none doubted 
the good man's power to heal the sick, or stay the onward 
course of the blood-hounds by his prayers. About 9 
o'clock, Uncle Ebin made the proposition that, "if Brud- 
der Johnson has no jections and will jine, I will sist dese 
gemmen wid a short season of prayer;" and as the bright 
light from the blazing logs in the old Dutch fire-place 
shone upon those seven or eight black faces, ranging in 



170 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

years from eighteen to eighty, so earnestly invoking 
Heaven's blessings upon those whom they believed to be 
the friends oi their race, we could not help but think, 
that if the prayers of the righteous availeth much, they 
doubtless damaged the cause of secession materially that 
evening. We retired to rest about ten o'clock, but not 
until we had taken a bath and my wounded feet had been 
carefully bandaged with soft cloths well saturated with 
coon's oil, of which we were given abundance. 

I said tO' my comrade, who' seemed to be interested 
in the proceedings, that if there was any virtue in kind 
words and cooii's oil, I must be a great deal benefited. 

The following morning we awoke greatly refreshed. 
After partaking of a coarse but substantial breakfast, we 
retired to the same room where we had slept, and there 
passed the day of September 24th. My injured feet 
were much better, and the prospects of making a good 
march the following night were favorable. 

The negroes were doing all they could for our com- 
fort, and the future was beginning to look bright, when 
suddenly our hopes were dashed upon the hidden reefs, 
and apparently our chances of longer being free moral 
agents were at an end. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 171 



The old neg-ress rushed intOi the house with the ex- 
clamation, "O Lor sabe us, dey is comin, O Lor sabe 
dese poo gemmens," etc. 

As we looked down into the lower part of the cabin 
and saw the good, true hearted old creature wringing 
her black hands as she paced the flooirless cabin, there 
was no doubting the fidelity of this abused friend of the 
Union. 

Looking through a hole in the roof we saw aljout 
twenty rebel cavalrymen about thirty rods from us slowly 
marching toward the dwelling. In front of them were 
eight or ten escaped prisoners, picking their way pain- 
fully along the sides of the muddy road. 

At a glance the situation was taken in, and the old 
negro Johnson thrust his wooly head through the hole 
in the floor, where a ladder filled the place of stairs, and 
said in a half whisper, "Go on dem boards in de shed." 

We were not long in making our way through the 
gable end of the house and onto the boards. 

The squad of cavalry rode up to the Eastman home- 
stead, and asked of the young negroes gathered around 
them, where their master was. After being informed by 
the youngsters that "Ole Massa is in de war, young 



172 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

Massa is a right smart distance away, and that Misser 
Johnson knode jes wher he be," the troop at once ad- 
vanced to our cabin. We heard the officer ask our old 

friend if he had seen any run away Yankees 'iook- 

ing Hke these beauties here," indicating the poor fellows 
in front of him, whose miserable condition should have 
brought a feeling of shame and disgrace rather than of 
amusement to him and to all like him who had been in- 
strumental in inflicting such cruelties as our brave Union 
soldiers had been subjected to at their hands. 

"Dar no one pass in de daytime sure, but old Tows 
make a great fuss in de night; may be dey pass den." 

"You could easily ascertain by examining your hen 
coop, replied the dashing Lieutenant, and all the rebels 
laughed at what they considered his witty remark. 

Some of the soldiers dismounted, and while the Lieu- 
tenant was talking with the old negro, two men stepped 
under the little shed, and one of them cut the tail from 
a coon skin that was nailed to the wall and stepping back, 
attached it to the bridle on the side of his horse's head. 
My comrade and I hugged the boards that merely hid 
us from view within four feet of their heads. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 173 

"Bkss de Lor deys gone," we heard the old negress 
say, and we again crawled back into- the chainber. In 
five minutes there were eight or ten of the negro's family 
gathered around us, congratulating us on our lucky es- 
cape. 

How thankful these poor people appeared to be, but 
of course they did not consider how many such narrow 
escapes we would have before we reached the Union 
lines, should fortune favor our endeavor. 

The old man Johnson had found me an old pair of 
shoes, and Aunty had rigged me a pair of feeting and 
several other articles very essential to a soldier's existence. 
As night approached and we were again thinking 
of moving on, I found to my sorrow, that I was unable 
to wear the shoes they had so kindly furnished me, as 
my feet had swollen so as to prevent my putting them 
on. I proposed that we should move on, and I would 
carry my shoes in my hands until I was able to wear 
them, but my comrade, having seen eleven more sum- 
mers than 1, regarded his judgment a little better, and 
he thought we should remain where we were until I 
should be able to march. Of course I would abide by his 



174 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

decision, as he had already proved himself a friend in 
need and a friend indeed. 

Although there had been one scouting party there 
that day, that was no proof that there would not be more, 
for in all probability they would continue to patrol all 
main travelled roads, keeping up a vigilant search until 
they had recaptured as many as possible of the escaped 
prisoners. 

Having decided not to relinquish our claim upon 
oitr kind friends' hospitality for at least another twenty- 
four hours, we made ourselves as comfortable as possi- 
ble. The old negro, who so earnestly prayed for our 
speedy deliverance and called down upon the Southern 
Confederacy Egyptian darkness, called upon us in the 
afternoon, with two or three books and a couple of Rich- 
mond papers. One of the papers was not a week old. 
He informed us he "slyed dem out of de big house." The 
papers gave us detailed accounts of Sherman's moves, 
and although there was no benefit to be derived from 
them, yet they were a source of pleasure as we had not 
seen a newspaper for seven months or taken a book in 
our hands, except a Bible, for the same length of time. 
Toward evening we were asked by our benefactors, if 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 175 

we would object to eight or ten of the older, ones of the 
negro plantation, with five or six from an adjoining farm, 
holding a prayer meeting at the cabin. The old man 
Johnson and Uncle Ebin assured us that no one would be 
invited except those who could be trusted. After charg- 
ing them to confide in no one but those who should be 
present, we gave our consent. 

Soon after dark fifteen of these poor slaves were as- 
sembled at the cabin, for the purpose of beholding a live 
Yankee, and to give us the benefit of their prayers. After 
feasting their eyes upon us for about half an hour, and in 
an undertone making occasional remarks to each other, 
one venerable man, a pillar of the Colored Methodist 
Church, in his enthusiasm invoked every imaginable 
blessing upon the Union and its defenders, and every evil 
upon its opponents. 

Among other things I recorded as a feature of this 
impromptu prayer meeting, was the petition of a venera- 
ble prototype of Uncle Jake, who appeared to be a ruling 
spirit in the party. 



176 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



Chapter XIV. 

He sent up his supplications to Heaven as follows : 
"O great and 'telligent Lor, look down on dis ere 
meetin' dis ere night! 'Sist dese gemmen who has fled 
from rebel'fliction. Dey wants to git frou to de Norf, 
and we ax you sisence. O Lor ! Gide em in de paff of 
life and may it lead to de promise Ian. Bamfoozle de 
hounds and may def cut off dare cent. Help dese gem- 
men frou all danger, and on to tudder side of Jordan. 
Look upon Massa Lincum in a particlar manner if it be 
dy holy will ; and may de year of jubelee come and de rebs 
turn up dare toes. Oh Lor ! Hover over de sick and 
flicted. Oh Lor ! bless all de generals of de Norf, and 
bless all de por sogers dat am chained up in de souf; 
bless all de colored people who is grooin down in de dust. 
Help dese gemmen right smart; life everlasting. Amen." 

This and much more was listened to by the whole 
audience and responded to with prolonged "Amens!" 

It was nearly midnight when the invited people dis- 
persed, each going to his humble abode, but not before 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 177 

they had been cautioned by Johnson to keep our presence 
a secret. 

During the following twenty-four hours nothing 
transpired worthy of note. At the expiration of that time 
comrade Ayers and I prepared to leave the Christian 
people whose hospitality we had shared, again to push 
on toward "The land of the free and the home of the 
brave." As this sustaining thought drew us near home 
and loved ones, it elicited the last spark of energy, and 
encouraged and strengthened both soul and body. We 
bade farewell to our colored friends, and with two days' 
rations of corn bread and bacon, and the blessings of 
those who had so kindly aided us in the hour of need, we 
again started toward the North Carolina state line. 

We had learned all we could from the slaves regard- 
ing the geographical points of the country, but as their 
knowledge was decidedly limited in this respect, it was 
but little use to ask for any information. 

We travelled in the woods until after midnight, 
when we came out and made our way to a farm house, 
and filled a small wooden bottle or keg that we had pro- 
cured of Madame Johnson, with milk. The family hav- 

12 



178 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

ing retired for the night, we had no trouble in finding 
the milk room, which was erected over a cold spring 
near the house. This was a picnic, as my comrade called 
it, that we had not expected. After this, we kept in the 
fields and highways until nearly daylight, when we again 
took up our quarters in the woods. In a secluded spot, 
thickly covered with trees, vines and underbrush, we 
made a small fire beneath the body of a large tree that 
had turned up by the roots. It partly protected us from 
view and would hide any smoke and steam that might 
arise. We remained in this place all day, having little 
fear of being discovered except by the hounds. 

The following night, as we were slowly making our 
way along the border of a large wood, we were suddenly 
confronted by two men, who stepped out of the woods on 
our left. One of them raised a gun to his face and 
asked, "Say fellers, which will you-uns have, a handful 
of buckshot and slugs mixed with your inards, or pull up 

and tell us who you be, and what in the d you want 

round yeah?" 

The bright moon revealed two men of medium size, 
and as bad looking men as one would meet in a day's 
journey. They were about forty or forty-five years of age, 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 179 

and wore butternut colored clothes with their old slouch 
wool hats turned up in front. Their faces were un- 
shaved, and their hair long. The impression they made 
was anything but prepossessing. In military form we 
saluted our challengers, and in reply to their inquiry 
said: 

"We are teamsters from the army and are on our 
way home near Raleigh, N. C." 

Each of our captors carried a large rifle or shotgun, 
and from leather belts around their waists hung re- 
volvers and dirk knives. One of them carried two heavy 
revolvers and the other one. 

After listening to our unreasonable story, they told 
us they were employed by the government (Confederate, 
we supposed they meant), to act as detectives in picking 
up deserters. After talking with them a short time, we 
were convinced they were not soldiers, for had they been, 
they would have cornered us up in our story, as we knew 
nothing of the whereabouts of any part of the Confeder- 
ate army, or of the country we were in. In all probabil- 
ity they had not thought of detectives or deserters until 
we told them we were teamsters from the army ; they then 
most likely thought we had deserted. Finding we had 



180 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

no arms, they ordered us to be seated and the two back- 
woodsmen, for as such they talked and appeared to be, 
drew a httle to one side and in an undertone conversed 
with each other for five or ten minutes. While we were 
alone, comrade Ayers and myself passed our opinion on 
the two mysterious characters. We had more fear of 
them than we would have had of soldiers. Ayers be- 
lieved they were outlaws, moonshiners, horse thieves or 
criminals of some kind escaping justice by hiding in the 
mountainous wilds of that desolate country. They did 
not appear to challenge any of our statements, which 
led us to believe they were fully as ignorant as their un- 
grammatical, outlandish language indicated. After rest- 
ing for thirty minutes or so, one of the men ordered us 
to follow them, saying as he did so, "We-uns must look 
into you-uns cases, and if you-uns prove to be deserters 
it will go mighty hard on ye." Ayers did the talking 
for us, and explained that we were not enlisted men, but 
simply hired teamsters, and our clothing becoming the 
worse for wear, we had started for home for clothing 
and such necessaries as we could not procure at the front. 
They listened, but apparently took little stock in what he 
said. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 181 



After passing across a large field, we again entered 
the woods and in what appeared to be a path on the banks 
of a small stream, we marched for two or three hours 
before a halt was made. We then stopped only long 
enough to take a lunch, which our captors had with them 
in a small bag or sack one of them carried on his shoul- 
der. They gave each of us a piece of corn bread and a 
small piece of meat, of what kind we never knew. Of 
our own small amount of food we said nothing. 

These men appeared to have met with a disappoint- 
ment, as they often spoke about another party that had 
failed to meet them. Several times during our rest they 
drank from a small keg or canteen, which each carried. 
We were invited to partake of the contents of these old- 
fashioned bottles, and as we declined with thanks, one 
or the other of our captors would make some joking re- 
mark as "They's mighty polite, you-uns don't take to 
jack, perhaps you-uns are preachers," and many other in- 
tended jokes were made at our expense. They gave 
Ayers some tobacco and then, when we resumed our 
march, he asked what they were going to do with us. 
"Keep ye till we-uns find out who ye is," was the reply. 
In this way we moved slowly along until nearly morning, 



182 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

when we came to a small clearing at the foot of a mount- 
ain, which could be plainly seen by the bright light of the 
full moon, which was gradually sinking behind the 
mountain peak. 

In the center of this small aperture was situated a flat 
roofed log hovel, and from its roof could be seen a small 
wave oif smoke slowly winding its way heavenward, which 
convinced us that this rustic structure, situated so far 
from any other habitation,was the abode of human beings. 
As we came near the shanty, a flickering light was dis- 
cernible in a rude fire-place, which could be seen through 
a small window made in the logs near the door. One of 
the men, whose appearance indicated that the contents of 
his little wooden bottle consisted of something stronger 
than water, made a circular tour of the premises before 
a word was spoken. He then commenced tapping lightly 
upon the door, but as he did not appear to arouse the in- 
mates, the blows were increased until a voice from the in- 
side, apparently that of a female, was heard to say : "]'\tn, 
Jim, thar's someone at the door," whereupon the muffled 
voice of a man was heard, as though his head was covered 
with a blanket ; then an oath and another voice, and in a 
few moments two or three men were heard calling to each 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 183 

other to get up. The continual barking of a dog, ming- 
led with the oaths of the inmates, made the unexplored in- 
terior of that establishment appear to Ayers and myself 
anything but attractive, and our opinion of the place and 
its occupants was not in the least improved by our admit- 
tance. 

The floor or ground was covered with some kind of 
hay, which was used for bedding; a few blankets, ragged 
quilts and old garments, together with four or five small 
boxes, were mixed with the hay. Upon our entrance a 
light was made by lighting a rag placed in a small iron 
basin filled with grease, which sat on an old rickety table, 
in company with two or three bottles, tin cups, dirk 
knives, corn bread, clay pipes and black molasses used to 
sweeten the liquor. In the far corner was a haggish look- 
ing female, sitting in her nest, with a black clay pipe in 
her mouth. An old piece of blanket covered her should- 
ers, and her long, uncombed hair encircled her pinched 
and dirty face, making a picture not soon forgotten. 
Three men, whose dress and outward appearance bespoke 
their true character, met us with : 

"Who in h you-uns got here?" 



184 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

They were all under the influence of liquor, and con- 
ditions indicated a night of revelry and debauch, which 
had subsided but a short time previous to our arrival. 
These drunken ruffians gathered around us and endeav- 
ored to amuse themselves by making abusive and insulting 
remarks to us, and having no idea how it would terminate 
I thought to myself vwhat I could not say to my comrade, 
"Give me Andersonville, Libby or almost any place rather 
than this." 

We were soon in possession of the knowledge 
that one of the men who had made us prisoners was the 
leader of the gang. The woman was the wife of one of 
the men whom we found in the shanty. This was not 
their permanent abode; their headquarters were further 
on, and these four persons had been waiting the past 
twenty- four hours the return of their comrades, who came 
with us, and some other person or persons who had dis- 
appointed them. These and a few other facts we gath- 
ered from the drunken and disgusting conversation car- 
ried on between them, together with the fact that as soon 
as it was light they would set out for the home of which 
the old woman had spoken several times, she being the 
nearest sober of the lot, yet not very sober at that. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 185 



These people were all armed and not badly clothed, 
but exceedingly dirty and vile. Soon after our arrival 
the bottles were replenished with apple jack or some other 
kind of liquor, which was taken from a large travelling 
bag that hung in one corner of the room, and Ayers and 
myself were ordered, instead of invited, to drink with the 
others. While we were going through the pretensions, 
which were not difficult, the cups being tin and the men all 
drunk, the woman growled out : 

"What in h you-uns going to do wif them 

ragged coons?" 

"Shut up, ye," answered one of the gang, 

"they's preachers." 

And then a loud, brutal laugh ending in a yell, was 
indulged in by all hands. When we looked at these peo- 
ple and at our surroundings, it seemed hardly possible we 
were among human beings. Ayers whispered to me that 
as they became more drunk our chances of escape would 
improve, and that we should keep cool and pretend to 
drink as often as they. About one hour after our arrival 
the scene was terrible. One fellow was trying to dance, 
when another pushed him and he fell over a box which 
was used for a seat. No sooner did he gain his feet than 



186 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

he caught a gun which leaned against the wall, but be- 
fore he could use it upon his assailant, in his drunken 
rage, two or three clinched him and a tussle ensued, dur- 
ing which the table was capsized, the kettle of oil and fire 
overturned into the dry hay, which instantly ignited, and, 
in less time than I can write it, a fire was started. One 
of the men kicked the burning hay, which scattered the 
fire the whole length of the room. The door was thrown 
open by Ayers, who was standing nearest it, and as he 
went through I followed. In a low tone he said : "Now 
is our time." 

We joined hands as we passed out, not even stopping 
to put out the fire, or to see how our friends fared; we 
made for the woods in a way that would have placed us 
among the foremost in a pedestrian arena, could our 
movements have been witnessed by those who do not in- 
dulge too freely in apple jack. We did not speak or look 
back until we reached the woods, some six or eight rods 
distant, when we halted for a few moments and took a 
farewell view of the situation. We were not pursued by 
our captors, for as we glanced at the hovel and its occu- 
pants there was no doubting the certainty of the destruc- 
tion of the former, while the latter were trying to save 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 187 

the worthless shanty. The men could be plainly seen in 
front of the door, running, jumping, shouting and en- 
deavoring to enter the burning hut, from which, in one 
minute after we left it, flames and smoke could be seen 
issuing from the door and cracks along its walls and roof. 
Appearances indicated that the woman did not escape. 
The few moments we watched the drunken proceedings 
of the outlaws convinced us that they could not save her. 
She was at the extreme end of the room, and there was 
almost instantly a blaze of fire between her and the door, 
which was the only avenue of escape. 

"I do not think the brutes have missed us," said 
Ayers, "come on." The first welcome rays of light were 
visible in the east as we took the last look at the outlaws 
and their burning rendezvous, and started on our back 
tracks as fast as our tired limbs would permit. As soon 
as light, we found the trail and in a couple of hours were 
at the place where we ate our midnight lunch with the two 
men who conducted us six or eight miles to see their 
drunken friends, and their shanty burn. 



188 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



Chapter XV. 

We had but little fear of being pursued, as they had 
no horses, and but one was in a condition to undergo a 
forced march, and he was tired and apparently had lots of 
business on hand when we last saw him. The report of 
two guns echoed from the surrounding woods soon after 
we left. To account for this, we reasoned that the guns 
were left in the burning shanty and were discharged by 
heat. Daylight revealed a well-trodden foot path, lead- 
ing up a narrow, wooded valley beside a small creek or 
river, which proved to be the same which we, a few hours 
before, so reluctantly passed over in the opposite direction 
with two well armed outlaws as our guides. As we 
struck the trail and satisfied ourselves that we were right, 
we hastened along as fast as we were able. We dare not 
leave this trail until we had arrived in the vicinity of the 
place where we met the men who had, for reasons known 
only to themselves, started us on a journey which might 
have ended in death, had not misfortune overtaken them 
previous to the consummation of their plans. From the 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 189 

ignorance exhibited by these people, and from informa- 
tion eh cited from them during their drunken controversy, 
we were led to think that this gang and others, who were 
secluded from the world in their mountainous retreats, 
were-either moonshiners, men who were hiding from jus- 
tice after committing crimes, or who had chosen this mode 
of living in preference to being conscripted into the army. 
Believing the first supposition to be correct, we felt our 
lives and safety depended upon our ability to escape them 
and we proposed to do it if possible. As I have said, we 
dare not leave the trail in this vast wilderness, as we 
feared we might get lost, hence we must keep in the vicin- 
ity of habitations. As for being lost, we were that al- 
ready, and had been since we left Florence, as we knew 
nothing of the country we were in. About ten o'clock 
w^e came in sight of a field, and then fell back into the 
woods about half a mile from the trail, and there remained 
through the day of October 27th. 

My worn feet had again become terribly sore, and 
as we secreted ourselves under the branches of a fallen 
tree and ate our last bit of food, I told my comrade that it 
would be impossible for me to hold out much longer with- 
out some covering for my feet. The substitute for shoes 



190 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

which the negroes gave me, together with the few pounds 
of food, were things of the past. Ayers' shoes would 
last but two or three nights more ; at the end of that time 
his feet would be exposed to the rough and stony surface 
of the ground. As he had not been without some kind of 
covering for his feet during his imprisonment, he feared 
that he would be unable to walk when it was gone. Soon 
after nightfall of the 27th we again resumed our march, 
foot sore, hungry and lame; and I do not in the least en- 
large upon our difficulties when I say considerably dis- 
couraged. Taking the North Star for our guide, we 
slowly picked our way through this lonely, almost unin- 
habited country, until the first welcome rays of light along 
the eastern horizon announced the departure of one more 
night of suffering and the advent of another day of anxi- 
ety and adventure. 

Several times during the night we came in sight of 
some kind of habitation, and as we cautiously approached 
the meagre and poverty stricken dwellings, something 
would prevent our making a successful attempt to obtain 
food. Either our presence aroused the inmates, or some 
lank cur would set up a howl that would turn us again to 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 191 

battle with the pangs of hunger, in this our almost hope- 
less and helpless condition. 

As we sat upon a log in a thickly wooded nook just 
at daybreak, Comrade Ayres, who had through the six 
days of hardship and suffering shown all the discretion 
and courage requisite for those who had placed their lives 
at their country's disposal, sat with do^wncast eyes, pon- 
dering our sad and wretched condition. He suddenly 
rose to his feet, nervously paced to and fro for a few min- 
utes, and exclaimed : "My God, what are we going to 
do?" Seeing he was not in the usual bright and cheerful 
mood which had characterized him ever since our escape, 
and fearing over-exertion might cause illness, I answered : 
"Let us move on by daylight, rather than during the 
night, as it will be easier for us both," I then explained 
to him the impossibility of making our way to our 
lines in the condition we were in ; that we had no chance 
to obtain food at night, and that at this season of the year 
nothing was growing in the fields. After thinking the 
matter over a few moments, he said : "You are right ; we 
can gain nothing by these nights of hardship and suffer- 
ing, and we will travel by daylight what time we have our 
liberty." 



192 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

We rested for a couple of hours and then plodded on. 
We travelled in the edge of the woods for a mile or so, 
until we came across an old negro or mulatto working on 
a fence near a log cabin, which stood alone, there being 
no other buildings in sight. Ayers stepped out in sight, 
and accosted him with "Good morning. Uncle." After 
we had talked to him for a short time, he informed us that 
he and his wife were free born and worked for a man 
named Mason, who owned five slaves, and lived about a 
mile from where we were, on a small plantation. Mason 
or Manson was a captain in the rebel army. The negro 
had seen no escaped prisoners,did not know of Florence or 
of any town except one lying east about three miles called 
Brownville. He gave us some corn bread and about one- 
half pound of fat bacon, which made us a breakfast of 
which we most decidedly stood in need. About ten 
o'clock we came into the edge of a large field, which 
looked like an old and bound out plantation. It was 
about a mile across this field. After we had covered 
about one-third of the distance, we heard what we at first 
thought to be a bugle call, but the sound a few moments 
later caused a chill to pass through our emaciated bodies, 
as the near approach revealed the true character of our 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 193 

situation. We were pursued by bloodhounds! This 
time it was I who asked, "What are we going to do; how 
can we escape?" 

"By gaining the opposite side of this field, and climb- 
ing a tree before the dogs overtake us. If we fail in this, 
we are at the mercy oif the brutes. Hasten for your 
life." As Ayers made this quick reply to my inquiry, we 
started for the point indicated. Though there were 
scrubby trees scattered over the field, there were none 
large enough for protection. Half or two-thirds of a 
mile is not far, but to one footsore, lame and almost ex- 
hausted by continual hardship, together with the fact that 
savage bloodhounds were in close pursuit, the distance 
seemed anything but short. We were a little more than 
half way across when the dogs came in sight. As I 
turned and looked at the yelping brutes, the blood seemed 
to curdle in my veins, the cold chills swept over me, and 
I reached for a club at my feet. As my comrade saw my 
motion, he pointed to the weak missile which I, as a 
drowning man had grasped, and said : "Drop that, drop 
it! If you strike they will kill us." 

13 



194 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

A few rods further on an old log fence ran across the 
field. As we reached this fence, which was some four 
feet high, the hounds were upon us. We seated ourselves 
side by side upon the topmost log and waited develop- 
ments, which I must confess we believed would prove dis- 
astrous, if they did not terminate in death. This was the 
first time since our escape that the advent of rebels even 
would have met with a cordial welcome, but it was not 
the will of God that our lives should end thus. The same 
omnipotent hand stayed the work of the brutal man-hunt- 
ers, that our emaciated bodies should not be lacerated by 
their cruel fangs. As they surrounded us, three or four 
of the pack, which consisted of eleven, sat in front of us 
and howled continually; others were sliding their bodies 
to and fro on the grass covered ground, while others 
were wrestling and playing with each other. We did not 
move hand or foot, but sat and watched the well trained 
brutes as they howled, barked and played, waiting the 
arrival of those who were following them. There was a 
highway running along the border of this field, at our 
right, and parallel with the course we were taking. Of 
this we knew nothing until we saw twelve rebel cavalry- 
men enter by this road, and ride directly to the dogs, 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 195 



which instantly became quiet. The brutes lay clustered 
together sleeping like innocent kittens, while we were 
talking with the horsemen. 

As the men came up, the lieutenant in command said : 

"Oh! These arn't what we are after. Good morn- 
ing, fellows, where are you chaps bound?" 

The teamster racket was again called into requisition 
but this time our questioners claimed they knew nothing 
of the troops to which we referred at Charleston, and had 
never been aware that the Confederate Government hired 
citizens as teamsters, and that it was not a common occur- 
rence for their teamsters to become so destitute of clothing 
or to resort to Yankee rags if they did. 

"Whereupon Ayres independently replied: "Lieu- 
tenant, there are many things in this world that you and 
I have never seen, and there are officers in our army who 
rank higher than you do, who are not familiar with the 
exact location of our large army, and if you have seen 
any length of service, you can not have failed to see that 
many of our men wear Yankee rags when they are obtain- 
able, although it is not in accordance with the regulations 
to do so." 



196 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

The rebel lieutenant and his followers laughed heart- 
ily at our independence, and then said : 

"Well, I am sorry to have our dogs cause you unnec- 
essary delay, and if you are going our way we will keep 
you company until our respective destinations require our 
separation." 

We thanked them kmdly and moved on together. 
They showed no signs that we were their prisoners, neither 
did we. As we came to- the forks of the road, some three- 
fourths of a mile distant, one of us said : 

"Well, boys, we must leave you here," thinking that 
as long as life remained we might hope, although it was a 
faint hope indeed. 

"No, no!" exclaimed the lieutenant. Your nearest 
route to the State Line is the way we are going ; you had 
best accompany us if you wish the most direct route." 

As he said this, Ayres said : "No more of this non- 
sense. Have you Johnnies anything to eat and any to- 
bacco about you?" 

"Well, Yanks, we hav'nt much, but we will divide, 
as you-uns look a little gant," and we all laughed at the 
little farce we had been playing. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 197 

These men belonged to a Louisiana regiment and 
had been in the field for about three years ; therefore they 
did not consider it an honor to misuse prisoners, as did 
those galvanized brutes who were mostly militia, and who 
had been doing duty at the several prisons where we had 
been confined. They divided their rations with us, gave 
Ay res some tobacco, and gave us any information we re- 
quested regarding the escaped prisoners. They informed 
us that most of the escaped had been recaptured, and all 
were in the new stockade at Florence, with some two 
thousand who had arrived since our escape. The hounds 
had been on our tracks from where we made our halt and 
rested for an hour or so about three o'clock that morning; 
therefore, we would have been taken just the same had 
we been travelling by night. They told us that not many 
had been taken by hounds, their service being called into 
use after most of the prisoners had been recaptured. They 
also informed us that the dogs were owned in or near 
Charleston ; that they seldom attacked a person when they 
overtook him, unless he showed fight, and that they were 
trained in this way. Then they explained how they were 
trained, saying that if they attacked a person and injured 
or killed him, the planter would be loath to hunt a run- 



198 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

away slave in this way, thereby losing the value of the 
negro, from two hundred to one thousand dollars. This 
conversation was carried on while we were marching 
three or four miles, to an old jail or court house, where 
they left us. During our journey two of the men dis- 
mounted and allowed Ayres and myself to ride their 
horses. In this way we rode nearly the whole distance. 
This court house, in one end of which was a jail, had 
evidently not been used since the commencement of the 
war, and the cob-webs, two or three feet in length, were 
hanging from the ceiling and a thick coat of dust covered 
all. We were locked in this place, and left in charge of 
a very old man and woman, who lived in one end of the 
building. Our captors and their dogs probably went in 
search of other unfortunates, who, like ourselves, had for 
six days been struggling for an almost impossible chance 
to gain their liberty. We remained in this place for 
twenty-four hours. The old people furnished us three 
times with a piece of corn bread and a cup of soup. Ayres 
called the soup "Mystery soup," the mystery being what it 
was made of. An old negro servant brought us our food. 
As he came in after our dishes and bent over to pick them 
up, I caught hold of the bottom of his short coat. This 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 199 

unexpected move caused the old man to back away, and 
before I relaxed my hold upon the garment, he had backed 
out of it, leaving the coveted article in my possession. 
Knowing that this coat was of great value to me, I at 
once retreated out of sight with it. Soon the old lady 
came to the door and said the gentleman would have to 
give up the servant's "west-cut," whereupon Ayres im- 
mediately explained to her that I was a holy terror if the 
least bit excited or angered, and that the militia, if not 
part of Lee's army would have to be called out before I 
would relinquish my claim to the garment. After the 
good woman had become fully convinced that I was a 
dangerous subject and liable to explode, if I was in any 
way excited or angered, she said that the gentleman was 
more than welcome to the coat and that she was sorry it 
was not better. Comrade Ayres, after watching the pro- 
ceedings and witnessing the old lady's childish solicita- 
tions that I should not become excited more than was 
absolutely necessary, laughingly remarked, as I crept from 
a back room wearing the garment, that this was our first 
attempt at hilarity since we had been in prison; and he 
wished the whole Confederate Government, or at least 
the commanders of rebel prisons, looked upon all their 



200 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

captives with the same awe and dread as these apparently 
innocent people regarded me; but this was not to last. 
About noon the next day two cavalymen came to the jail 
and took us out. 

After waiting in front of an old dilapidated hotel 
that was then occupied by several negroes, until after all 
the women and children, old men and negroes in the set- 
tlement had looked us over, we were started for Florence. 
Our two guards were not as friendly appearing as our 
mounted men-hunters of the day before, nevertheless they 
allowed us to rest our sore and tired limbs by riding a 
part of the way. They gave us a part of their rations, 
and laughed heartily when Ayres told them how I ob- 
tained my walking coat, as he called it, which was made 
of thick grey cotton. It came to my hips, the sleeves were 
a few inches too short, but otherwise it fitted well enough 
and was the chief part of my wardrobe during the re- 
mainder of my incarceration. Almost at sundown we 
halted at a farm house for the night. There we found 
two rebel soldiers with three escaped prisoners from the 
Fifth and Seventh Michigan Cavalry. These poor fel- 
lows had been recaptured the day before, and were three 
of the five men who had accompanied us for nearly two 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 201 

days and nights, and who separated from us three nights 
before, some fifteen miles from where we now again met, 
under sadder circumstances. Two of their number had 
fallen under the deadly aim of their pursuers while striv- 
ing to retain their liberty, if such it could be called, as 
long as possible. One was shot through the heart and 
died instantly, while his more unfortunate comrade re- 
ceived wounds, which when they were combined with the 
terrible suffering that inevitably awaited him, would prove 
fatal. 

We were now about ten miles from where we were 
recaptured by the hounds, and twenty-three miles from 
Florence. We all slept together in an outbuilding near 
the farm house, one of the Johnnies at a time standing 
guard over us. The following morning the sergeant in 
charge obtained some corn bread and bacon for our break- 
fast, also a small amount to take along for our dinner. 
Soon after sunrise we again took up our march, and just 
at dark, upon the same day, the door of the new stockade 
was thrown open to receive five as tired, lame and foot- 
sore individuals as ever graced a rebel prison hell. 

This was just nine days and nights from the time 
the break for literty was made. I have not the power of 



202 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

language to portray to the reader the anxiety, fear, hard- 
ship and suffering to which we were constantly subjected 
the greater part of the time during that perilous attempt 
to escape; therefore, I will for a moment leave him to 
take an external survey of this sepulchral den, while my 
utterly discouraged comrades and I pass inside to mingle 
again with that moving mass of suffering humanity, 
where the vermin dieth not and the fires are not built. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 203 



Chapter XVI. 

It was nearly dark when we entered the new stock- 
ade, and not only had all or nearly all of the escaped pris- 
oners been recaptured and consigned to these quarters, 
but three or four thousand of the Andersonville prisoners 
had been sent here during our absence. 

At this time I knew nothing of the whereabouts of 
Comrade Hull, and hearing from the guards that quite a 
number of the prisoners had been shot while trying to 
escape, and fearing for his safety, I at once commenced 
searching for him among the prisoners. As darkness 
came on, and there were no lights excepting an occasional 
small flickering blaze made by lighting a pine stick, I 
soon lost Comrade Ayres, and after travelling until my 
already tired limbs could stand it no longer, I curled up 
between two earth huts near the dead line and there 
passed my first night in the Florence stockade. 

The following day I found Hull; he was not recap- 
tured until the fourth day after his escape, therefore had 
been in the new pen only five days. He had experienced 



204 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

hardships and narrow escapes, having been fired upon two 
or tliree times during his vacation^ as he called it. As 
they were reorganizing some of the thousands, and as I 
had not been consigned to any detachment, I managed to 
get into the thousand to which Hull belonged, and we 
were again in the same mess, which consisted of twenty 
men instead of fifteen, as we had in Andersonville. 

Soon after our arrival at Florence, Comrade Hull 
and myself concocted a little scheme which, if adroitly 
managed, would give an extra ration to each of us for an 
indefinite time. Here, as at Andersonville, the prisoners 
were formed in regimental order, excepting that they were 
called thousands and hundreds, instead of regiments and 
companies. Each morning the rebels would enter the 
stockade, count the men and call the roll. Commencing 
with the first thousand, they would count them and if a 
man was missing he must be found. If sick, he must be 
pointed out by the sergeant of the hundred to the rebel 
sergeant before the thousand would be allowed to break 
ranks. If a man was missing and could not be found, 
after standing an hour or two, the thousand would break 
ranks, but the whole thousand would lose their rations 
for the following twenty-four hours. The rules of the 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 205 

prison were such, that any man being absent at roll-call, 
and thus throwing the thousand out of their rations, 
should be tied to the whipping-post, situated in the cen- 
tral part of the prison, and there receive as many blows — 
of the cat-o'-nine-tails — as the chief of police saw fit to 
inflict. 

One morning, after our thousand — No. 4 — had been 
counted and had broken ranks, Hull and myself conceived 
the idea of crossing to the opposite side of the camp and 
there joining another thousand, as they were that day go- 
nig to reorganize or consolidate some of their thousands, 
where death had broken their ranks. We had no trouble 
in "flanking in," as it was called, consequently Hull and 
Dufur of the 4th battalion and Perkins and Briggs of the 
9th, drew their rations in the same little sacks, and they 
were eventually consumed by the twO' former men. Of 
course, we ran some risk in this "flank" movement, but the 
extra pint of meal that we drew each night was sufficient 
recompense for any little fears we might entertain in re- 
gard to consequences, if detected. 

The third or fourth day after joining the ninth thou- 
sand, flour was issued instead of meal, and while Hull 
was drawing the rations for Perkins (himself) and Briggs 



206 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



in the 9th, I was drawing for Hull and Dufur in the 4th. 
By exchanging one pint of flour for a half dozen small 
sweet potatoes, we were well provided for, at least for one 
day. All passed off smoothly for about eight or ten days 
and we began to think our chances good for living through 
the winter, should fortune favor us as much in obtaining 
something to- protect us from the cold rains and winds, 
as it had in the provision line, when a cloud burst directly 
over the castle we had built in the air, and the fall thereof 
was not only great, but sudden. 

The rebels for some reason became suspicious that 
they were issuing more rations than they had men, and 
at once decided to investigate and if possible bring to jus- 
tice any starving wretch who might have the audacity in 
any way to seek to obtain an extra pint of provender to 
appease his hunger. Acting upon this resolution they at 
once ordered the first thousand into line, and after call- 
ing the roll and counting the men, placed a strong guard 
over them, and in like manner proceeded to the second 
thousand, instructing the guards to allow no man to step 
out of the ranks until the entire camp had been searched. 
Nos. I and 2 were left under guard while they were count- 
ing the third, and so on through the eleven or twelve de- 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 207 

tachments, which occupied nearly half a day. When the 
ninth thousand and seventh hundred were counted, the 
rebel sergeant turned to the sergeant or corporal who had 
charge of that hundred and said : 

"Two men absent, call the roll." 
The roll was called, and the absentees proved to be 
"Perkins" and "Briggs." Search was made, but to no 
avail, as no one knew their place of abode; they were 
merely marked "absent," and rations for No. 9 ditto. 
Could they for a moment have looked across the camp 
and at the seventh hundred of No. 4, they might have seen 
standing there in the ranks two rather poorly clad young 
men apparently not at ease, although they had received 
orders thus to stand. 

There were no two men in the fourth battalion that 
could in all probability read each other's minds more ac- 
curately than Hull and Dufur during the five hours they 
were quietly waiting in the ranks that morning. We 
were not the only ones who were a little anxious, although 
we had imagined at the time that we were alone in this 
flank movement ; therefore, were entitled to all the credit 
for the generalship and honor emanating from the scheme, 
but this was not the case. Others were equally wise, and 



208 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

this piece of strategy we had jointly and severally re- 
garded superior to anything appertaining to our welfare, 
now had the appearance of being another drop added to 
the cup of sorrow we had already nearly drained to its 
bitter dregs. 

That about one hundred and sixty rations more were 
being issued than there were men in the prison, was shown 
by the Johnnies "taking the census," as the boys called it. 
Comrade Hull and myself had slept near the gate until 
we met with this "financial embarrassment," but after 
that we moved a short distance back, where we would be 
less likely to be seen by those whom we had unintention- 
ally deprived of their rations for twenty-four hours. 

For nearly a week everything passed off quietly, until 
one day, while I was curled up over a little blaze, endeav- 
oring to cook my meal, a man behind me said : 

'TIullo Briggs, where's Perkins?" 

I was on the point of giving him to understand that 
Hull (i. e. Perkins) was in the hospital, thinking that it 
was sufficient for one to suffer for trying to procure a cup 
of corn meal when starving, when PIull, hearing the name, 
crawled from the hole we had dug to shelter us from the 
wind and cold, where he was lying while I was preparing 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 209 

our frugal repast. The man who accosted us was the 
sergeant who had charge of the ninth thousand, and acci- 
dentally came across us. He said we must go over to the 
ninth with him. We tried to> explain to him that it would 
not help them any by our suffering now, and that he ought 
to look upon it differently than he would had we caused 
the trouble intentionally; but we had to go. 

He was one of those men who soar as high and real- 
ize nearly as much comfort and honor from imaginary 
greatness as from the real thing, besides being totally des- 
titute of any kind of friendly feelings toward an unfortu- 
nate fellow-being. After talking to us in an abusive 
manner for a short time, he ordered two Irishmen to take 
us before Stanton — the Chief of Police. Hull said when 
on the way : "This means almost death, and I have a 
mind to step across the dead line and thus put an end to 
my sufferings and at the same time escape the disgrace 
that will most likely be our lot if we appear before that 
brute who for six months has disgraced the name of Chief 
of Police." I sincerely believe that any ex-prisoner who 
knew this man will corroborate my statement, when I 
affirm that he, who by some means had been chosen to act 

14 



210 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

in this capacity, frequently inflicted punishment upon 
those emaciated forms that was cruel and heart-rending 
to witness. 

I had frequently seen the inhuman treatment which, 
for the slightest offense, many oi my starving comrades 
had been subjected to at the hand of this unfeeling wretch, 
but never did I harbor the thought that it would be my 
lot to face the shame and disgrace of being publicly 
whipped for what I considered no- crime, and that by the 
order of one who was universally known as a low pugilist. 
All knew his record as a soldier had been won during his 
incarceration, as he came too direct from the place where 
he was drafted to the prison pen to receive any war record 
worthy of note. Therefore, the thought that old soldiers 
or men who had honorably and willingly enlisted and un- 
flinchingly defended the flag of their country, through the 
darkest days of adversity, were tO' be thus treated, and by 
such a character, seemed hard indeed. It seemed as if 
Comrade Hull and myself for a long time had endured 
all the hardships, suffering and torture that rebel ingenu- 
ity was capable of inflicting, and had endeavored to bear 
unflinchingly the yoke ol injustice and oppression, but 
this seemed the last act in the drama; and that we should 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 211 



submit to this contemptible wretch appeared to us more 

than we could bear. 

We had gone about half the distance from the ninth 

battalion to police headquarters, when our two escorts 

commenced talking to us about our situation; one of them 

said to his comrade: 

''Faith, Mike, what d'ye think of a blaggard that will 

bate the nearly bare bones of a poor divil, merely for 

chating the frog-atin, gander-legged greybacks out of a 

pint of male?" 

"Ah, an' by the powers of St. Pathrick, it's the heft 

of a black-thorn that he nades on his own impty head, an' 

so he does," says the other, and turning to us he said : 

"Lads, is this all the diviltry j^ez have been up to?" 
We told him of the charges against -us. when one of 

them said to the other : 

"Oi've a mind to let um schkip." 
Seeing there was some hope of escape, I said : 
"If you allow us to go free, I believe you will never 
be sorry." 

They looked at each other for a moment, and around 
them, as if to make sure no one was listening to the con- 



212 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

versation, and one of them, pointing toward the opposite 
side of the camp, said : 

"Take to your hales, me lads, and don't show up on 
this side of the brook, rashuns or no rashuns, dy'ye 
mind?" 

And I can assure you, gentle reader, that we did ex- 
actly as our benefactors told us to do; and I am Ireland's 
friend to the last. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 213 



Chapter XVII. 

There were about twelve thousand men in Florence; 
the camp was laid out the same as at Andersonville and 
surrounded by the same kind of fortifications, but it was 
only half as large. After we had remained there six or 
eight weeks, the rebels erected three sheds, forty or fifty 
feet in length. They were erected in one corner of the 
stockade and used for a hospital. There were nO' walls to 
these sheds excepting the posts, and when it rained and 
the wind blew, the inmates were nearly as bad off as if 
they were outside. It was my lot to sleep within two 
hundred feet of this rendezvous of suffering, and night 
after night as I listened to the shrieks of those who were 
bereft of reason, the moans of the dying, I exclaimed : "I 
would to God that this heart-rending wail might echo in 
every home whose owners have the power to alleviate the 
sufferings I now witness." 

The 27th of November the camp was thrown into 
intense excitement when an officer came in and informed 
us that the next day four hundred of the sick were going 



214 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



to be paroled. That meant men who could be moved, but 
not one in twenty of those under the sheds were able to go. 
The commanding officer came in and ordered the first 
thousand to fall in near the gate and between the dead line 
and the stockade. This ground was selected because it 
afforded ample room and because the dead line prevented 
the other prisoners from approaching those who were 
undergoing an examination. It was at first reported that 
three men were to be chosen from each hundred, thirty 
from each thousand, making four hundred from the camp 
of twelve thousand, there being about that number at this 
time. But seeing that this was going to be too much 
work, and require too much time, only four or five thou- 
sand were formed from which to select the required num- 
ber. Comrade Hull, being one of the fourth thousand, 
happened to be one of those who were chosen. While the 
doctor was walking before each hundred, scrutinizing 
each man and occasionally asking questions of them re- 
garding their imprisonment, hundreds of forlorn looking 
creatures pressed closely to the dead line, that they might 
see if any acquaintance or comrade was numbered among 
the accepted. As I saw Hull step from the ranks and 
join those who' had been chosen, I realized that I was the 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 215 

only one left of our family of thirteen who ten months 
before, as we entered Andersonville, vowed to befriend 
each other and remain together during our imprisonment 
unless the messenger of death should break our ranks. 
Yes, I was alone. Although thousands of men were 
within speaking distance, I was comparatively alone. 
There were several members of my own regiment in the 
prison, but I had not seen them since we left Anderson- 
ville. As soon as I saw that Hull was going, I returned 
to the place where we had slept for the past three months 
and wrote a letter to my mother; and, although my writ- 
ing materials were not of the best, consisting of a piece of 
white birch bark and a stub pencil, nevertheless they were 
sufficient to convey the idea that I was all right and as 
happy as could be. I omitted the rest of the sentence, 
under the circumstances in a rebel prison hell. I gave it 
to him to mail, and requested him to write to my people, 
as soon as he reached our lines; but in no way inform 
them of the terrible condition we were in. As he passed 
out of the gate I waved him adieu, and walked back to 
our camp-ground with a sad heart indeed. I remained 
for some time seated on the ground with my face buried 
in my hands. My thoughts wandered to my far away 



216 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

home in the old Green Mountain State, and then back 
again to my present sad condition. Must I die in this 
dreadful place? No! I exclaimed aloud. No', I cannot; 
and as I raised to my feet, a voice by my side said : 
"What is it that you ain't going to do?" 
"I'm not going to die in this hole if I can help it." 
"Wall, I don't know as I can blame a fellar for form- 
ing that resolution. Sometimes during the ten months 
that I have been knocking about in these bull-pens, I've 
though I was going to turn up my toes, but as no one 
appeared to care, and I was a little stuffy, I thought I 
would hold out as long as I could, just to bother the John- 
nies." 

He then laughed heartily, and immediately asked me 
the question asked so many millions of times by one sol- 
dier of another during the four years of the war. "What 
regiment do' you belong to?" I told him, and found him 
to be a member of the Fifth Michigan Cavalry in the same 
brigade as my own. After talking awhile he informed 
me that his partner (tent mate, he called him) had just 
gone with the paroled prisoners. We at once agreed to 
form a partnership, and with my old oyster can, half a 
canteen and about two^thirds of an old army blanket, that 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 217 

comprised the whole of our worldly effects, we were pre- 
pared to meet the combined forces of the rebel hosts, with 
all their ingenious modes of murdering according to law. 
Yes, we would yet live to see Jeff Davis and his follow- 
ers dance Yankee Doodle in mid-air with the devil for 
prompter, and his imps for partners. I saw I had struck 
the right man in the right time, if not in the right place. 
His name was Frank McGee. He was a true type of the 
back- woodsman ; full of courage, with a larg^ heart and 
apparently he could even find enjoyment in the toothache. 
He informed me that he owned a building lot down near 
the brook, and as we were to^ live together, he wished me 
to go with him and look it over, and then we would de- 
cide which lot we would occupy, his or mine. After look- 
ing over the ground, we decided my place would be pref- 
erable, as it was near the gate, thus allowing us to see 
what was going on. But had we known of the cold rain 
storm that so soon burst upon us, a rain storm that 
drenched the unhappy inmates for days and nights in suc- 
cession, with scarcely sun sufficient to dry our few clothes 
during this time; had we known that the dead would be 
brought to the gate and there be left for twenty-four 
hours before they were drawn away, instead of being 



218 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

picked up and carried outside each morning, as the rebels 
had previously been in the habit of doing, I. say if we 
could have known all this, we should most decidedly have 
chosen the ground that Comrade McGee had without re- 
serve bargained for, sold and conveyed to some Jersey 
soldiers for five buttons and four chews of tobacco, a few 
days before. 

Abuse, hardships and constant suffering had 
driven some of the men to a state of depravity almost 
bordering on insanity. They seemed not only to despise 
the instigators of their suffering, but everyone with whom 
they came in contact, let him be friend or foe. As it was 
useless to try to find other quarters farther from the 
scenes of such annoying nature, we at once commenced 
arranging some kind of a place tO' sleep that would par- 
tially protect us from the cold night air, if not from the 
rain. The characteristics of my new found friend gave 
promise of improvement in my prison life so' long as we 
were permitted to remain together. As he came along 
with part of an old army blanket hanging from his arm, 
he halted in front of me and, throwing it down exclaimed : 
"United we stand, divided we freeze." At this time, No- 
vember 2oth, the weather was warm and pleasant, especi- 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 219 

ally in the day time, but the nights were quite cold, at 
least it appeared so to us. who were obliged to use the 
bare cold ground for our bed and the canopy of heaven for 
shelter. 

Believing the maxim, "Make hay when the sun 
shines," a wise one. the following day we commenced 
making bricks for the purpose of building a house. To 
do this, we went to the brook and with our hands and the 
half of a canteen, managed to dig clay from the bed of the 
stream, and with the aid of a small wooden trowel, con- 
verted this soap clay, as it was called, into bricks about 
three-fourths the size of an ordinary brick. They were 
of a reddish gray color, and after we had dried them in 
the hot sun for three or four days, they became quite hard. 
By carefully laying them closely together and two deep, 
we erected the body to our house, size 5x7 feet, and about 
4 feet in height. The tops of the walls were slightly 
drawn in and on a stick raised above the walls for a ridge 
pole, our blanket was stretched, thus forming quite a re- 
spectable roof. We then built a little fire-place, and our 
winter quarters were completed. 

Many a poor fellow would halt and enviously exam- 
ine our quarters. Every day we made what improve- 



220 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

merits we could, and for a week or ten days were as well 
situated as any, so far as good quarters were concerned. 
But when the rain began to fall, our house began to show 
signs of yielding to the constant patter of rain-drops upon 
its unprotected walls. For the first three or four days 
as the rain would hold up for a few hours, we would en- 
deavor to cover the affected walls with mud and sand; 
and had the storm then ceased entirely, we might have 
done so successfully. But our house, with many others, 
mo'Stly composed of earth, was doomed. The fifth day 
of the storm the wind blew a gale, and for three or four 
hours the rain fell in torrents. Every spark of fire 
through the entire camp was extinguished. When the 
storm ceased thousands of men, drenched to the skin, were 
seen standing in the street with no shelter or fire to dry 
their scanty garments. In the place where their humble 
cots had stood, nothing but a bank of mud remained. 
Ah ! but heart-rending were the combined moans of the 
sick who were exposed to the cold rain, with not suffi- 
cient strength to walk. Their moans, cries and prayers 
could be heard mingling with the relentless elements of 
the storm. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 221 

Men could be seen standing with their backs to the 
storm, their hands covering their ears, that the awful 
shrieks and moans of the dying might not be heard. 
Hundreds of homeless and shelterless human beings could 
be seen standing with their bodies pressed closely to each 
other, that they might save their nearly nude forms from 
being chilled through by the cold wind and rain of that 
long and terrible night. Upon many a stormy night, 
during November and December, did the prisoners resort 
to this mode of protection from the cold storms, but never 
during our imprisonment did we realize such indescrib- 
able suffering as upon this night. Over two hundred 
men died during the twenty-four hours. What a sight 
to behold ! It actually looked like a hard fought battle- 
field as we passed over the camp the following morning. 
Comrade McGee was one of a detailed party to go over 
the camp, collect the dead and carry them to the gate. I 
was not strong enough to assist in this revolting work; 
but accompanied the detail, thinking I might recognize 
in some of the ghastly remains a former acquaintance, or 
some member of my own regiment. 

I have not the power of language to portray to the 
reader the awful scene. Men were seen in every direc- 



222 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

tion dead or dying. Lying on their backs, their anus 
extended, hands white and wrinkled from long exposure 
to the rain, their long hair beaten into the sand, and the 
eye-balls covered with sand and dirt. All this cast a spell 
of dread, sorrow and despair upon us, mingled with a 
feeling of hatred and revenge. The soldier haters and 
Southern sympathizers have since often remarked "they 
did the best they could for their prisoners; they did not 
have sufficient food for their own men." Now, admit- 
ting this to be a fact, we ask : Is there another civilized 
people on God's earth who would have held men as pris- 
oners of war, whom they could not have fed? Thou- 
sands of Union soldiers who survived their murdered 
comrades stand ready to bear testimony to the truth of 
my assertion, that more than one-half of the deaths in 
Andersonville and Florence were caused from want of 
fuel and shelter to protect us from the heat, cold and 
storm. 

I furthennore affirm, and can prove, that this terri- 
ble human sacrifice could have been prevented by the Con- 
federate Government without cost and with no inconven- 
ience to them whatever. Both of the above named pris- 
ons were situated upon the borders of extensive forests. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 223 

An able bodied man could stand on the inside of either of 
those prisons and with his arm cast a stone into the edge 
of a forest of mammoth pines miles in extent. The stock- 
ades were constructed from the bodies of these huge pine 
trees, and thousands of cords of wood were scattered over 
the ground in the immediate vicinity of those who were 
dying for the want of it. 



224 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



Chapter XVIII. 

Should the reader ask why fuel was so essential to 
our existence in the warm and sunny South, I must ex- 
plain that by eating uncooiked corn meal, hundreds of 
names were monthly added to the death roll. During the 
cold fall and winter storms, thousands of men perished 
from exposure; the cold rain and wind chilling their 
skeleton bodies and inevitably causing prostration and 
death. Not only would the abundance of wood that lay 
decaying on the ground so near our uncomfortable quar- 
ters have greatly benefited us in cooking our food, but 
rude though comfortable huts could have been constructed 
by the prisoners, and for the want of which thousands of 
men perished. One of the guards could have taken out 
five or six of the prisoners at a time to gather wood. In 
this way the guards who were not on duty nights, by 
working two days in a month, might have furnished all 
the fire wood and building material that was necessary 
for the camp. The branches of the fallen pine trees would 
have been utilized to good advantage in the construction 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 225 

of huts, thus saving thousands of human beings from 
perishing with cold and exposure. Had we been allowed 
sufficient wood for fuel and protection, such as could have 
been had from this material, seventy-five per cent of those 
who perished during the cold storms could have been 
saved. 

A few days after the big storm, our rations, of one 
pint of coarse, unsifted corn meal, were stopped. The 
first day we failed to draw our rations all kinds of ru- 
mors were afloat in regard tO' the cause. Some said it 
meant that another batch of prisoners was going the next 
day, while many claimed the rebels could not get the ra- 
tions to issue, and many who believed this, were heard to 
exclaim : "What will they do with us, supposing they can 
get no rations for a week or ten days ? And many were 
the conjectures among the hungry prisoners until the fol- 
lowing morning, when it was made known to the sufferers 
by the officers in charge that they were in possession of 
the fact that a tunnel, which they could not locate, was in 
progress at some point of the stockade, and that they 
would issue no more rations to the camp until it was 
found. As the men received this unexpected piece of in- 

15 



226 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

formation, it fell like a thunderbolt upon the dejected, 
starved and defenceless masses who', for hours, would 
crowd and jostle each other for a position near the gate. 
For what? That the poor creatures might feast their 
eyes upon the sight of the first sack of provender that 
should enter. My God ! that sight is as vividly portrayed 
to my mind's eye as though I was now standing upon the 
same ground, and was numbered with the same mass of 
suffering humanity. Not only were the cruel pangs of 
starvation keenly felt by this morbid assembly, but we 
were compelled to breathe an air oppressed with an intol- 
erable stench, hemmed in by a fatal dead line, and in con- 
stant danger of being shot to death by unrestrained and 
brutal guards. 

As the pangs of hunger increased, the murmurs of 
the crowd mingled with the familiar howls of the dreaded 
bloodhounds, as they hourly encircled the prison walls in 
search of escaped prisoners. The third day of our fast, 
extra guards were placed on duty, as some of the prison- 
ers showed signs of insanity. Many a poor fellow lost 
his life by pressing too near the dead line. As the report 
of a musket in the hands of a heartless sentry rang out 
upon the midnight air, instantly followed by a cry of pain 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 227 

from the unfortunate victim, the voice oi some prisoner 
would be heard to shout: ''Another Johnnie gets a fur- 
lough." 

But fearing the result of a protracted fast or starva- 
tion, the third day, at 4 P. M. rations were issued to the 
camp, although three days and nights they had kept us 
thinking we could live on dreams. Only the one pint of 
meal was given to^ each man. As it was about dark be- 
fore the distribution of the sacks of meal to the thousands 
was begun, it was an hour after dark before the last man 
received his allowance, and many heard the guards on the 
towers cry the hour of midnight before their scanty allow- 
ance of meal was converted into an eatable form. Many 
were compelled tO' depend upon others for cooking uten- 
sils, and were obliged to wait for the owner and perhaps 
the second and third parties who had previously engaged 
them, before they could utilize the needed articles them- 
selves. 

The prisoners at Florence voted for President of the 
United States in the month of November, 1864. Abra- 
ham Lincoln and George B, McCleland were the candi- 
dates. The commanding officers of the prison were anx- 
ious that the prisoners should vote, believing that they 



228 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

would not vote for Lincoln's re-election, as they would 
doubtless blame him for having made no arrangement for 
the exchange of prisoners. Being anxious to find out 
how the men felt in regard to the matter, bags were hung 
up at the gate, and black and white beans were given to 
the prisoners and those who' wished to^ vote were allowed 
to cast a bean into the sack, black for Lincoln and white 
for M'cCleland. A Confederate soldier stood by to see 
that all was fair. For a few hours some of the boys ap- 
peared to enjoy the scene; it was a change, anything to 
alleviate for a moment the mental or physical condition 
of the sufferers. 

Once in a while during the day some one would hur- 
rah for McCleland, loud enough to be heard all over the 
camp. This would bring a smile to the faces of the Con- 
federates, who heard it, but a different feeling was mani- 
fested upon counting the votes and finding that a large 
majority had voted for Abraham Lincoln. 

Comirade McGee and myself kept together during 
the remainder of my imprisonment. We removed the 
clay from our camping-ground, and using a few sticks 
issued to us for fire wood, and a part of an old blanket, 
we arranged a place to sleep in pleasant weather, though 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 229 

we suffered with cold during- the nights, and in rainy 
weather. We would stand with our bodies pressed to- 
gether in crowds of from twenty-five tO' two hundred 
men. This partially protected our bodies, but those who 
were barefoot suffered much from cold and the many 
bruises they received upon their unprotected feet during 
the long nights we remained in this uncomfortable posi- 
tion. Comrade McGee and myself were among those 
who ''went to roost," as the boys called it. 

Just previous to Comrade Hull's departure, the reb- 
els ordered the men to fall intO' line, and receive the goods 
that our sanitary commission had sent us. These goods 
consisted of hats, caps, feeting, underwear, woolen blan- 
kets, and many kinds of furnishing goods. If these had 
been honorably distributed to the needy, each one drawing 
that of which he mostly stood in need, what good might 
have been realized. But instead, only a small portion of 
the goods were given to the prisoners, and regardless of 
our needs. A man, for instance, who was shirtless and 
shoeless, would get a cap and suspenders. As for myself, 
most anything in the line of wearing apparel would have 
given me joy, as the pants and shirt my generous captors 
nearly ten months before allowed me to retain, now only 



230 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

covered my body and limbs in places. I was both thank- 
ful and surprised when they gave me my portion of the 
goods, which consisted of a tall, light colored wool hat, 
while a man standing near by who had been in prison but 
a short time and was comfortably clothed, received an 
undershirt, drawers and a pair of stockings. As I called 
the attention of the officer to these things, he replied: 
"You must make exchanges among yourselves." He 
knew as well as we that under the circumstances the pris- 
oners who, by continual suffering and abuse had been 
brought tO' a state nearly bordering on barbarism, cared 
but little for the wants of others, especially strangers. It 
was the actual belief of not only myself, but many of the 
prisoners, that the unequal distribution of the goods was 
made in order to alleviate the distress as little as possible. 
As I walked back to our quarters with my hat on. 
Comrade Hull made the remark that I reminded him of 
what he had read O'f missionary work in Africa, how one 
of the heathen might be seen walking into church with all 
the dignity imaginable, with only a hat on his head and a 
shirt with the sleeves tied around his waist. Hull being 
more fortunate, drew a cotton shirt. As I could live 
without the hat, I traded it with a rebel sergeant for a 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 231 

peck of sweet potatoes. We ate sparingly of them for 
our supper, and after giving a few to a couple of men who 
slept near us, we dug a hole in the ground and buried 
them, and our heads lay over our potato bin as we slept. 
But the next morning what was our surprise and disap- 
pointment to find that during the night, while we slept, 
a subterranean passage had been made from the rear of 
our sleeping apartment to our potatO' bin, and all but two 
or three had been appropriated by some one who had been 
particular in noting our place of deposit. 

As the winter months drew on, the suffering in- 
creased. As we were in the immediate vicinity of the 
sheds that had been erected for the protection of the sick 
from the cold fall rains, every sound was audible to us, 
and the prayers and moans of the dying were heartrend- 
ing in the extreme. These were sick unto death, without 
blankets, lying on the cold ground, with only a few coarse 
pine boughs under their emaciated bodies. There were 
no walls tO' the sheds, and if the wind blew the least dur- 
ing a storm, the sick would be wet through as though 
they were lying out in any other part of the stockade. 
Comparatively speaking I would have been well, had it 
not been for the constant faint and death-like feeling 



232 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

caused by starvation and exposure. A man who could 
walk was considered well. 

During the last four weeks of our confinement at 
Florence, my own suffering was by far greater than at 
any time during my imprisonment after the first five 
weeks. Not only were the cold and hunger sufficient to 
destroy life in a short time, but it was a terrible strain to 
be compelled to hear the heart-rending wails and moans 
of the dying, and the oaths and cries of those whose minds 
had yielded to the constant strain. How many times we 
said, "Would tO' God it was in our power to alleviate the 
indescribable suffering that it is our lot constantly to be- 
hold." Night after night Comrade McGee and myself 
would go to some other part of the camp and there remain 
for hours, to escape the heart-thrilling moans of the dying. 

But as all things must have an end, so must the 
Sonthern Confederacy and its prison hells yield to the 
omnpotent hand of God. It being His will that we should 
not all thus perish, the day of relief at last dawned; and 
Jan. loth, 1865, six hundred happy souls gave their sup- 
plications to Heaven and six hundred emaciated forms 
tottered from the loathsome den as paroled prisoners. As 
we were not certain in regard to the destination of the 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 233 

other prisoners who had previously left the stockade as 
paroled prisoners, we were not quite as rejoiced over the 
event as we would have been had there not been a doubt in 
the way; nevertheless, indications pointed to a genuine 
parole, and knowing that a change of prisons would not 
in the least bring about a worse state of affairs, we hailed 
it with gladness. On the morning of the loth the first 
thousand was formed outside the dead line, and about 
fifty men were chosen. They were picked out as the 
others were some time before. They were to choose men 
who had been in prison the longest time, and those whose 
term of service had expired. I had but little hope that 
I would be picked out, as once before my thousand had 
been looked over and a few chosen; but they passed me 
by, which caused Comrade McGee laughingly to remark 
that I was so thin, most likely I was not seen. But this 
time I was noticed and was numbered among the six hun- 
dred who, the loth day of January, 1865, rejoiced in their 
deliverance. As I was so interested in the events of that 
day, I must give in detail some of my personal experience 
in regard to my examination and parole. 

The reader will remember the difficulties I experi- 
enced at Richmond some ten or eleven months previous to 



234 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

this, and had I been recognized as one of Kilpatrick's 
raiders, and one who- had under a disguise escaped from 
the ignominious death they had promised me, I would 
have remained with them as long as they held prisoners 
of war. I once heard Lieut. Wilson, of Andersonville 
fame, remark : "The cavalry raiders are not likely to be 
the first to^ be paroled, as they were anxious to get into 
this country, let them remain until they are satisfied." 

But the examining physician knew nothing of me 
or my war record, more than my present condition indi- 
cated, and apparently did not wish to discuss the cause of 
my personal appearance. He looked me over for a mo- 
ment and asked me how long I had been a prisoner ; if my 
term of service had expired, when captured, and if I would 
go to Canada and there remain if I got my liberty? When 
asking these and more questions, I was compelled to 
break the ninth commandment in order to give him a sat- 
isfactory reply. He passed on to the next man, leaving 
me for a short time as crestfallen a man as there was on 
the ground. As he passed again down the line, he halted 
in front of me and instead of saying, "We know you," as 
I for a moment thought he was going to say, he said : 
"You can step out." 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 235 

Never were four words uttered to me that sounded 
so sweet to my ears or that meant so much. Hundreds, 
yes, thousands of comrades were gathered near the dead 
Hne. Some of them were there for the purpose of ascer- 
taining who and how many of their friends and acquaint- 
ances were numbered with the chosen ones, while others 
were there, as they had nothing else to interest them, and 
cared not who went or who staid, as long as they were not 
going themselves. My friend and comrade, McGee, 
stood at the line watching me, and as he saw me step out 
of the ranks, he at once started in the direction of our 
quarters. I thought he felt badly to be again left alone, 
and had thus suddenly gone away that his sad feelings 
might not be noticed by others ; but my supposition proved 
incorrect, for in a few moments he returned with our old 
blanket under his arm, and walking up to the dead line, 
said : "Here, chum, you had better take this, for in all 
probability you will remain on the outside for some time, 
perhaps all night, before they will be ready to start; and 
the cold wind sweeping across the plains will chill you, 
and perhaps freeze you to death." 

I did not accept the profifered blanket, which would 
have been of so much value to me that night, but I had 



236 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

the proof of that man's fidelity and friendship. As I 
passed out of the gate I saw my friend standing near the 
fatal line with the old blanket hanging on his arm. He 
waved me a good bye, and I never saw him again. He 
was quite right in regard to the suffering of the men on 
the outside of the stockade^that night. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 237 



Chapter XIX. 

It was about 3 o'clock P. M. when we left the prison ; 
near the gate were two or three log cabins and at a large 
window in the end of one of these, sat some Confederate 
officers with the books. As we passed the window in sin- 
gle file, each man was asked his name, company and regi- 
ment, and as soon as they were registered the man touched 
the pen and he was a paroled prisoner. It was nearly 
dark before this work was completed. Some wood was 
then given us and fires were built and we were told to 
gather around and make ourselves as comfortable as pos- 
sible. It was a level and open country to the northeast 
and west of us, and as the bleak north winds swept across 
the open plains it seemed that some of us must be chilled 
to death. My own nearly nude body I feared must suc- 
cumb to the relentless cold, but with a fire to warm one 
side, while the other was freezing, and with the thought 
of home and what the future held in store for me, I man- 
aged to pass my last night at Florence, though my suffer- 
ing was nigh unto death. I doubt that there was another 



238 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

man among the six hundred as destitute of clothing as my- 
self. 

We had not drawn our rations for a day when we 
left the stockade, therefore the officers in charge issued a 
small ration of hard tack (four, I think) to each man. 
This was small, to be sure, but under the circumstances it 
was received and eaten with enough grace, cheer, hope and 
courage to last for one meal at least. As we were march- 
ing in single file past the place where our rations were 
given out, what was my joy and surprise to recognize in 
the man in front of me James Miller of the 27th Massa- 
chusetts Volunteers, whom the reader will remember I 
met in Andersonville. When I first met him there he was 
a stout, healthy man, but now would weigh but a little 
more than one hundred pounds instead of one hundred 
and ninety, as then. He was now poor and pale and suf- 
fering terribly from rheumatism. We remained together 
until we reached our lines, and I cared for and assisted 
him all that I was able. 

Just before daylight, the following morning, a freight 
train drew up and we boarded it — about fifty men in a box 
car — and started for Charleston, S. C, a distance of one 
hundred and three miles. We were eighteen hours on the 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 239 

road and arrived at Charleston about midnight. As our 
train was side-tracked in the outskirts of the city, the men 
cHmbed out of the cars and huddled together near the 
track, anxiously listening for the reports of exploding 
shells in and over the city. 

The Union forces had been bombarding the city and 
Ft. Sumter every day and night for nearly two years. 
The shell and solid shots were thrown from Morris Island, 
first into the city, and then intO' Ft. Sumter and repeated. 
As most of the prisoners had been in Charleston while on 
our way to Florence, some of us remaining eleven days 
on the old Charleston race-course under fire of our own 
guns, we knew all about the bombardment; therefore we 
reasoned that if there had been a parole, or an exchange 
of prisoners agreed upon, the bombardment would cease 
during the transaction. Consequently, the interest and 
anxiety exhibited by the prisoners in regard to this mat- 
ter was visibly portrayed upon the countenance of each, as 
he awaited the verdict that the mammoth guns of the 
Island were to pronounce. Their silence meant freedom, 
home and happiness; their voices, imprisonment, starva- 
tion, suffering and death. The of^cers in charge and the 
guards told us it was a genuine parole, but we had been 



240 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

deceived before, consequently we could not rely upon their 
word. But as the hours passed and no sound of shot or 
shell was heard, the men became more talkative and lively. 
A Confederate general came to us at daylight and said : 
"Yanks, you are going home; your boats are lying in the 
harbor waiting to convey you to your own lines ; in about 
an hour you will march to the wharf and there take one of 
our boats that will convey you out to^ your fleet that now 
lies about three miles from our docks." 

The scene changed; voices that had not been heard 
now loudly proclaimed their joy in song and thanksgiving. 
Men were seen tO' totter to each other and shed tears of 
joy as they clasped each other's hand. One was heard 
reveling in a strain of "Old Shady — "Good wheat bread 
and a dollar a day, I'm coming, coming, hail mighty 
day!" 

We were given a breakfast of hard tack and molasses 
and then took up our line of march for the wharf, but not 
before we were informed that if one of our number spoke 
impertinently to a man, woman or child, who might gather 
to look at us as we passed through the streets, the offend- 
ers should be at once returned to the bull pen. The six 
hundred — minus three or four who died on the way — 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 241 

marched to the wharf, and there on an elevated wharf that 
extended out into the water several feet beyond the rest, 
we remained for nearly two^ hours, waiting for the boat that 
was to convey us to our own fleet, which was in plain view. 
What a glorious sight ! Eight or ten of those large ocean 
steamers, together with the mammoth receiving ship, the 
"New York," lying so majestically upon the placid waters 
of the harbor, that four years before was the scene of the 
first conflict that eventually called nearly five million men 
to arms. 

From their tall masts the stars and stripes were un- 
furled to the Southern breeze. The white flag occupied 
a conspicuous place upon the same lofty spire, and the glo- 
rious scene was hailed with joy and thanksgivings to God. 

The boat came at last, and as we left the wharf to 
take our places upon its decks, six of our comrades, with 
their faces towards home and the flag they loved, lay 
stark and cold in death. This seemed terrible indeed, to 
die within sight of home, as it were, after passing through 
months of indescribable suffering. 

The wind blew a gale, and after being on the decks 
of the small rebel steamer for over an hour, the officer in 

16 



242 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

command ordered us from the boat, as the wind was too 
strong for the small transport to make the passage in 
safety. The men were in much fear that something might 
yet happen to prevent them from reaching our ships ; they 
would not move, although assured the boat was liable to 
be swamped or strike some of the torpedoes that were 
planted in the harbor. They still refused to leave it, until 
revolvers were displayed and threats made to use them. 
We were then formed in two ranks and marched to the 
Marine Hospital, the distance being about one and one- 
half miles. 

The route took us through that part of the city that 
had suffered most from the bombardment. Large brick 
blocks were literally torn to pieces. Nearly every build- 
ing had from one to twenty holes through it from the size 
of a water pail to that of a cart wheel. Devastation and 
destruction on every side ! The streets were strewn with 
debris of every conceivable form — nails, tin and glass 
covered the ground and hundreds of bare feet bled from 
wounds received by coming in contact with them. After 
reaching the hospital, which was a mammoth unoccupied 
structure, we were placed in it for shelter from the wind 
and cold, until the former should abate sufficiently to 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 243 

allow the rebel transport to take us out to our own in 
safety. As there were no fire-places or stoves in this 
building, many of the men built fires on pieces of boards, 
old tin pans, etc. 

The Confederates, seeing smoke issuing from the 
windows, came in, and after talking pretty hard to us, 

calling us "d " Yankee fools, and many such pet 

names, took us from the building and marched us to the 
State's prison yard, about one mile distant. A few of the 
men, being unable to walk this distance, a mule team was 
called and loaded with twelve or fifteen of those who were 
unable to stand. This team formed the rear of as de- 
jected and forlorn a looking crew as ever passed through 
the streets of Charleston. 

Three days and nights we remained under the 
shadow of the South Carolina penitentiary, awaiting the 
fair weather so earnestly prayed for by those anxious to 
grasp the hands of loved ones in their own beloved homes. 

The fourth morning the doors of the prison were 
again flung open, and the boisterous command of the 
rebel officer to "Get into line!" echoed through the dark 
and gloomy apartments. Three of our number failed to 
respond as their names were called, the messenger of 



244 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

death having again stoden into our ranks at a moment 
when Hberty, home and loved ones were almost within 
their grasp. 

About 12 o'clock M. the rebel transport steamed out 
from the dock with nearly six hundred as light hearts as 
ever palpitated in the breast of man. At i P. M. the 
steamer came alongside the receiving ship "New York." 
Gang planks were thrown from oue vessel to the other, 
and the ex-prisoners were led from the rebel boat to our 
own by the crew of the receiving ship. This had to be 
done to prevent the men, who were too weak to walk alone 
with safety, from falling from the planks into the water. 
Many of the men would groan as they left the rebel boat, 
to show their contempt for their enemies. 

Soon after our transfer, rations were issued to the 
men, and through some mistake of the quartermaster's, 
double rations were given ; in consequence many were 
made sick, two or three dying from the effects. Each 
ration might not have been larger than that necessary for 
an able-bodied man, but certainly was more than should 
have been given to men in our condition. 

It consisted of six hard tack, or rather large sea-bis- 
cuits, considerably larger than our common army crack- 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 245 



ers, together with one-half pound boiled bacon and a large 
cup of coffee. As I divided my own ration and threw 
part of it overboard, a young fellow belonging to the 5th 
Michigan Cavalry, whose skeleton frame would have been 
considered a prize by the proprietor of a dime museum, 
asked me to give it to him if I did not want it myself. 
This fellow did not die, but came very near it. Many 
had the wisdom to throw away part of their food, but 
could not control their appetites sufficiently to allow the 
food to remain beside them and not eat it. 

The transportation fleet lay at anchor near Fort 
Sumter, and as the sight of this historical structure was 
of great interest to most of us, we all gathered at the rail 
on one side of the ship to get a view of the fort. This 
causing the ship to partially turn on her side, and attract- 
ing the attention of the captain, he came on deck, and in a 
kind and friendly tone said: 

"Trim ship there, my boys," 

This being the first kind word or sentence uttered to 
us for so long a time, the men again and again cheered the 
old captain, and in their enthusiasm invoked heaven's 
blessing on him. The characteristics of the child predom- 
inated. The smallest thing would now please or anger; 



246 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

and these were the men who had faced death without 
flinching, who had scaled the enemy's works when the 
missiles of death literally filled the air. 

With a sufficient number of blankets, we passed our 
first night after our release from captivity, and with the 
stars and stripes floating over us, joy reigned supreme. 
The following morning a light breakfast was issued to 
the men, and after the surgeon had looked over and pre- 
scribed for the sick, we passed from the deck, where we 
had remained since our arrival, to the next below, and 
there each man received an overcoat, blouse, pants, shirt, 
shoes, feeting and underwear, together with a large blan- 
ket. This clothing was all new, and our old clothes were 
all thrown overboard. 

The Cumberland's crew went down with their ship; 
the Monitor sank the Merrimac; the Kearsage sent the 
crew of the Alabama to a watery grave; but in all, there 
was never recorded so great a loss of life as when those 
garments were committed to the waves. 

About noon we were transferred from the receiving 
ship to the "Crescent," a large ocean steamer that was 
used for a Government transport during the exchange of 
prisoners. About 2 o'clock the same day she swung 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 247 

around into position; the hissing of escaping steam was 
heard, the monstrous wheels began to move, and more 
than five hundred voices rent the air with cheers, and we 
were homeward bound. 

After a pleasant trip of three days we steamed up 
the Chesapeake, and about 4 P. M. of the fourth day our 
vessel was safely chained up at the dock at Annapolis, 
Md. Many people from Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New 
York and Maryland were there to meet friends and rela- 
tives who might be numbered among the survivors; and 
as the ex-prisoners were led from the steamer and formed 
in line on the wharf, soldiers and police were called into 
requisition to prevent the crowd from pressing too near. 
Some were there merely to look at the prisoners, while 
hundreds were anxiously asking for friends. 

"Do you know George Cumings?" is asked by some 
one. 

"Yes, he died in Florence." 

"Did you know James Marshall?" 

"Yes, he is here in the crowd." 

Another asks about a brother, uncle, father or hus- 
band. 



248 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

"He died in Andersonville, more than six months 
ago," or 

"He was shot for stepping over the dead line." 
Many, many were the questions asked and answered, 
some receiving favorable replies, while many were shocked 
by the sad tidings that friends had been starved or frozen 
to death, or had died from disease caused by the barbar- 
ous and cruel treatment to which they had been subjected. 
While some wept, others rejoiced. 

A splendid band of music was in attendance, and 
the old familiar military airs seemed to revive the dor- 
mant spark of life, that the prison hells oi the South had 
so nearly extinguished. After standing in line while all 
the preliminaries so essential to any military move had 
been gone through with, we marched to the barracks, 
some fifty rods distant, and there remained for three days, 
previous to our rendezvous at Parole Camp, two- miles 
from Annapolis city. Before our removal from the city 
to Parole Camp we made an entire change in our personal 
appearance, had our hair cut, were shaved, and after tak- 
ing a bath, drew a new suit of clothing throughout. The 
clothing we drew in Charleston harbor and wore home 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 249 

was sent back for other prisoners to wear on their home- 
ward move. 

We now took up our quarters in Parole Camp, where 
the hundreds of long barracks all arranged in uniform 
system caused the place to resemble a well laid out vil- 
lage. After remaining in this pleasant camp a week or 
ten days, we drew two months' pay and 27 cents per day 
for each day we had been in prison as ration money, and 
v/ere granted a thirty days' furlough. The reader can 
easily imagine the joy that reigned supreme in the many 
homes of the survivors, as they again clasped the hands 
of loved ones in the free-lands of the North. 

Bidding farewell to the sad scenes we have witnessed, 
I will invite the reader to view that home so suddenly 
changed from a house of mourning to joy and thanksgiv- 
ing. The son and brother who was thought to be dead, 
is alive. He is the eldest of that happy group of children 
who gather around him. Note the fond father and 
mother, shedding tears of joy, as they again and again 
clasp the hand of him "who was lost and is found." 

Would to God that there might be the same rejoicing 
in every home when the fond mother's prayer is so often 
heard at the midnight hour, asking God to protect her 



250 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

boy. But leaving this happy family to rejoice with their 
own, I will ask the reader tO' accompany me again to An- 
dersonville. I wish to speak of one who gave up his life 
in that place, and in whom I became deeply interested. 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 251 



Chapter XX. 

Soon after our arrival at Andersonville I formed the 
acquaintance of a New York soldier named Moore, His 
Christian name, and the number of his regiment, have 
gone from my memory; but the picture of that sad and 
melancholy countenance is as vividly portrayed to my 
mind's eye as it was when I sat by his side, and heard 
from his own lips the story of his eventful life. He was 
about forty years of age, and his home was on the banks 
of the Hudson river, of which he never tired of speaking. 
A lingering disease was slowly but surely wearing out his 
life. How my heart ached for the poor fellow, as he 
talked of home and loved ones, whom he well knew he, 
in this world, would never more see. 

Having myself seen comparatively little of prison 
life and hardship, and not yet having become "prison- 
hardened" — as the boys called it — the poor fellow saw at 
once that he had elicited my sympathy and found a willing 
listener to his recitals of the dark and bright sides of a 
life that was soon to end. How the sunken eve and 



252 OVER THE DEAD LINE 



emaciated face brightened, as he talked of home and those 
near and dear to him. 

''The most beautiful on earth is my Hudson river 
home," he would exclaim. "Can it be that I am never to 
see my darlino- wife and children again?" 

Then he would struggle tO' his feet, and nervously 
pace to and fro for a while, and again become calm. How 
I tried to encourage him. He told me his experience in 
California, from 1849 ^^ 1856, and during the seven years 
he was mining in that State he made thirty-five thousand 
dollars. In July, 1856, he started for home, placing his 
money — eight thousand dollars in bank notes and the re- 
mainder in checks — in a small travelling bag, and then 
taking the overland route. The story of his chief adven- 
ture on that homeward journey made a deep impression 
on my mind, and believing it will interest the reader, I 
will relate it. 

While still within the borders of the half-civilized 
far West, he discovered that he was pursued by despera- 
does, who had doubtless heard or imagined he had with 
him a large sum of money. Believing that the surest 
way to elude the ruffians was by secretly leaving the route 
he was then travelling, he hired a private conveyance and 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 253 

ill a few hours reached a station on a new railroad, fifty 
miles distant. It was nearly nightfall when he arrived at 
a small station on the central route. After settling with 
the man who had brought him the last ten miles, he im- 
mediately sought out the agent, to ascertain how soon the 
next train would be due. 

"Not before midnight," said the agent, "but if you 
are very anxious to go on before, you may poissibly ar- 
range with that engineer to give you a lift," he said, 
pointing to a tall, square built man, dressed in a suit of 
blue clothes, well besmeared with oil and coal dust. He 
had an oil can in one hand, while with the other he was 
feeling the different parts of the machinery, as if to ascer- 
tain that no parts were too warm and that all was in run- 
ning order. He scarcely looked up from his work, when 
asked by the traveller if he could get passage with him 
as far as he went. 

"I'm going through to C," said he, "if she sticks to 
the iron, but it may not be very pleasant for you, if you 
are not accustomed to riding on a locomotive." 

"I am not," said Moore, "but will pay almost any 
price rather than wait." 



254 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

"Nothing," said the engineer, as he wiped his greasy 
hands on a piece of waste and looked at his steam gauge. 

"Any baggage?" he asked; "I am off soon now." 

Moore took a seat in the cab, after depositing his 
valuable travelling bag in the tender box, and thought 
himself in luck, after all. 

The fireman, a young man about twenty-three or four 
years of age, went quietly about his duty. One would 
imagine that the engineer and firemen were strangers to 
each other, by the way they spoke, and Moore was not 
long forming the opinion that the fireman was displeased 
with the order he had received, compelling him to make 
ninety miles that night, after passing over two hundred 
miles of road during the last twenty-four hours. The 
next day was their time to go, but the engineer had re- 
ceived a telegram an hour before, on receipt of which he 
immediately asked permission of the superintendent to 
take his engine to C. that night, which was granted. Or- 
ders were given to run carefully, look ont for No. 22 — 
the through night express — which he was to cross at a 
point of safety. Having no train, and a full head of 
steam — the Eagle, as the engine was called — seemed to 
jump from the rails, as the sober-looking engineer placed 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 255 

his hand upon the throttle; and to express it in Moore's 
own words, the small stations seenied to fade away in the 
distance almost instantaneously. 

The head-light had been lighted before leaving the 
station ; the shades of night were falling and as we looked 
at the fields, fences and farm houses that seemed to pass 
us as if by magic, I could see by the expression of the 
fireman's face that he could not fathom the meaning of 
the terrible rate of speed at which we were going. Not a 
word was spoken by either the fireman or engineer. The 
former seemed bewildered, as he anxiously glanced at the 
steam gauge and then at the solemn man who did not 
seem to realize that there were other persons near, or that 
we were passing over the iron rails at the rate of sixty 
miles an hour. As for myself, I thought I would say 
nothing, as in all probability the engineer knew his busi- 
ness and would not appreciate an interference by one who 
had never stepped on a locomotive before in his life. The 
silence was first broken by the fireman, who was looking 
at the man that seemed not to notice the rate of speed, 
exclaiming : 

"We are running fast to-night." 



256 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

"Coal!" said the man of iron nerves, as with his left 
hand he grasped the chain and swung open the furnace 
door. 

Slowly the fireman obeyed the order, and resumed his 
seat, with his eyes riveted upon his master. 

"We have steam sufficient to draw a heavy train!" 
exclaimed the fireman, looking at him in a frightened way. 

"Yes," was the only response; "oil the valves." 

I could plainly see that something was wrong by the 
terrible rate of speed at which we were going and by the 
excited looks of the fireman I reasoned that if there was 
cause for him to believe we were in danger, there might 
be for myself. 

"Wliere will we meet the express?" asked the' fire- 
man of the engineer, who had just looked at his watch. 

"Don't know," was the answer, as the furnace door 
was again swung open, 

"You know we meet between here and N.," said the 
trembling fireman. 

"You know what that fire-box is open for," said the 
engineer. 

"But look at your steam gauge; it indicates too many 
pounds already." 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 257 

"And you are the man who dares to tell me my busi- 
ness," said the engineer, rising from his seat. "Fill the 
fire-box, I say, and if you refuse I will fill it with your 
cowardly body." 

I had already formed my opinion, and as the fireman 
passed me, he whispered a word in my ear that seemed to 
curdle the blood in my veins. The terrible reality flashed 
upon me that his thoughts coincided with my own; the 
man who held our lives iti his hand was mad ! 

We passed station after station, over bridges, under 
arches. A thought, and they were in our rear. 
My watch told me that sixty minutes had passed 
since we started on this dreadful ride. Reason told me 
that as many miles had been passed by that confined body 
of hissing, groaning steam. 

As I looked at the wild expression of that man's 
eyes, the pale face and muscular form, I realized what a 
terrible antagonist we must meet, should necessity compel 
us to try to overjxDwer him by physical strength. His 
reason did not seem to desert him as far as the manage- 
ment of the machine was concerned, when as in a savage 
voice he gave his orders to the now seemingly paralyzed 

17 



258 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

fireman to "oil the valves," "raise" or "lower" the dam- 
per," and that dreadful and oft-repeated shout, "More 
coal!" I could not but recall to mind how I had once 
seen a maniac mechanically performing manual labor, 
though entirely bereft of reason. 

A few miles more and we would pass N , the last 

station between us and C . It did not seem possible 

that he would pass N , unless he had determined on 

death and destruction, not only for ourselves but perhaps 
to hundreds of others, who were at that moment approach- 
ing from the opposite direction, totally unconscious of 
danger. Thus we waited until the flash of light that 
burst upon our eyes told us that N was in our rear. 

We watched the engineer, who sat looking straight 
ahead, one hand upon the reverse lever and the other 
grasping the throttle, while the wind from the open cab 
window blew the black hair from his pale frenzied face, a 
picture once seen was never to be forgotten. 

"More coal!" he said, making a sweeping motion 
with his left hand from the coal bin to the furnace door. 

The terrible position we were now in seemed to re- 
vive a spark of courage in the terrified fireman, and in- 
stead of complying with the order, he said : 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 259 

'*I cannot do it. Do you realize, sir, the terrible 
danger we are in? Do you realize that at this frightful 
rate of speed at which we are going we will in less than 
twenty minutes collide with the express?" 

"And do you realize, sir," said the madman, as he 
relaxed his hold upon the throttle, "that in less than 
twenty seconds you will collide with the contents of this,, 
if you in the least disobey my orders for the next twenty 
minutes?" and he pulled from his breast pocket a loaded 
revolver. 

"My God! we are lost," exclaimed the fireman, and 
his agonized look said plainly that he realized the worst. 
I feared he would jump from the side oi the engine, as I 
saw him cast his eyes heavenward, as if engaged in 
prayer, then to earth below. 

"Don't be rash," I said, speaking for the first time, 
and the horror of being left alone with this man entirely 
bereft of reason came to my mind. 

"Sir," I said to the engineer, as calmly as I could, 
as I did not wish him to think me excited, "if you will 
stop your engine and allow this man and myself to get off 
here, I will give you five thousand dollars, that is now in 
the tender-box, and put it in your hand the next minute." 



260 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

"Keq) your seat," was the only reply, as he pointed 
with his revolver to the seat I had just vacated. And 
again swinging open the furnace door, he said in a husky 
voice : 

"Coal!" 

And as the man covered by the revolver threw the 
coal into the hissing, fiery mouth, each shovelful seemed 
as so many shovelsful of gravel thrown on my coffin. 

"There," said the madman, closing the door, "raise 
the damper." 

It was done, and all the power and velocity possible 
was given to the machine that was hurrying us to destruc- 
tion. How I prayed in those agonizing moments that 
the approaching train might be a few moments late, and 
how I have since thanked my Heavenly Father that I was 
not in possession of my revolver, for a few moments later 
the heart-rending cry of the half unconscious fireman an- 
nounced that the head-light of the express was in sight. 

I looked at the engineer ; his pale face wore the same 
sad look; I saw him bare his neck by removing a black 
handkerchief that encircled it, as if to get air, and his eyes 
seemed riveted on the light that gradually grew larger as 
it drew nearer. Words cannot express the feelings that 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 261 

took possession of my brain at the sight. With his left 
hand the engineer now seized a small rope, when three 
short shrill whistles echoed from the surrounding hills. 

My thoughts seemed to wander; I closed my eyes to 
shut out the scene that must follow; I heard the click of 
the reverse lever, a shock, and I was hurled against the 
cab window by the sudden stop. I saw a flash of light 
from the passing express, and the Eagle stood panting on 
the side-track at C station! 

"Thank God!" I heard the engineer say, as he 
stepped from his engine, followed by the fireman and my- 
self. His first words, as he took each of us by the hand, 
were : 

"Forgive me." 

''For what?"' I asked, "and why this terrible night 
of danger?" 

He did not speak for a minute; then he said, as he 
held up the message before referred to : 

"This was the cause of all. I felt confident that I 
could make this station in safety, and although compul- 
sory obedience served to accomplish it, I trust you both 
will forgive me, when I tell you that I have a little one 
dying in yonder cottage." 



262 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

And as the strong man spoke, a tear rolled down his 
cheek. I walked with him to his home, and as I saw him 
kneeling by the bedside of his dying child, with the small 
white hand clasped within his own, and his powerful 
frame shaken by convulsive sobs, I recognized as brave, 
noble, tender-hearted man as the world could produce, 

Moore finished his story, and then laying his hand 
on my knee, said: 

"Comrade, that engineer don't run on that road to- 
day ; he lives in a cottage within two hundred yards of my 
home, and his children play with my children. He re- 
ceived the five thousand, and he sounds the whistle each 
time the steamer, of which he is the engineer, passes our 
home, that we may know he is all right." 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 263 



Chapter XXI. 



Names and Location of Graves of Vermont Soldiers, 
who died in defense of the Union, and whose remains are 
interred in the National Cemetery at Andersonville, Ga. 



No. 



Names. 



Rank. 



Co. 



Reg. 



Date of 
Death. 



4579 

12092 

11259 

10664 

8301 

9960 

3975 

11841 

5671 

12585 

3166 

4137 

11469 

12455 

9722 

3767 

7886 

12406 

4200 

8029 

6416 

6349 

4954 

6334 

5738 

11317 

11747 

10371 

4637 

8691 

4037 



Adams, Daniel 

Aiken, Wm. A 

Aldrich, Harvey B.... 

Aldrich, Lanson E 

Albee, Silas 

At wood, Horace, G.... 

Averill, Franklin 

Babcock, Thomas 

Bacon, Alcott M 

Bailey, Elnathan 

Bailey, James 

Bailey, Samuel P 

Baker. Joseph 

Barber, Wm. H 

Barker, Freeman 

Barnes, Wm. F 

Barton, William 

Baxter, George 

Beadle, Henry A 

Hedee, Washington C 

Benoit, Joseph 

Benson, Allen J 

Bently, Merrill W 

Berchard, Sardis 

Bliss, Fred H 

Bohonan, Joseph 

Boudry, Andrew 

Bowles, Lyman H 

Boyd, A. M 

Brainard, Joseph P.... 
Brown, George 



Private 



Sergeant 
Private 



C 
A 
A 
A 
G 
C 
I 
K 
G 
F 
A 
H 
A 
C 
A 
F 
K 
A 
C 
I 
D 
C 
A 
L 
L 
I 
C 
A 
L 
L 
D 



11 
11 
11 
11 
11 
ICav. 
9 
31 
9 
4 
2 
iCav. 
11 
11 
11 
1 Cav. 
11 
4 
9 
9 
1 Cav. 
11 
6 
11 
1 Cav. 
9 
11 
4 
ICav. 
1 Cav. 
10 



Aug. 2, 1864 
Nov. 17, 1864 
Oct. 20, 1864 
Oct. 8, 1864 
Sept. 9, 1864 
Sept. 28, 1864 
July 25, 1864 
Nov. 5, 1864 
Aug. 14, 1864 
Feb. 3, 1865 
July 11, 1864 
July 28, 1864 
Oct. 26, 1864 
Nov. 16, 1864 
Sept. 7, 1864 
Aug. 23, 1864 
Sept. 5, 1864 
Jan. 6, 1865 
July 29, 1864 
Sept. 6, 1864 
Aug. 22, 1864 
Aug. 21, 1864 
Aug. 7, 1864 
Aug. 20, 1864 
Aug. 15, 1864 
Oct. 23, 1864 
Nov. 2, 1864 
Oct. 5, 1864 
Aug. 3. 1864 
Sept. 12, 1864 
July 26, 1864 



264 



OVER THE DEAD LINE 



No. 



Names. 



Rank. 



Co. 



Reg. 



Date Of 
Death. 



1068[Brown, Joseph B 

4509 Buchanan, James 

10745'Bunker, Clark 

12185 Burns, John 

8815 Burrows, Hiram 

12239 Butler, Albert S 

10431 Buxton, Chas. B 

6806 Camere, Phillip 

11769Carter, Geo. VV 

2675Caswell, Franklin 

4205 1 Cham berl in. Converse. 

8923 Chase, Elias S 



2811 Chase, Mark C 

1228 Chatfield, Wm 

51u3 Chesley, Asa J 

7361 Clark, John 

7345 Clifford, James 

1170 Clark, Martin L 

2694Ciough, Burchard 

3918Clough, John D 

3351 Cole, Alvin H 

1973Colletts, Joseph 

6932Comar, Wm. A 

8320 Cook, John J 

1044 Corey, Chas. A 

5384 Cavil, Wm 

3817 Crocker. David 

4883 Crow, Henry 

11738 Cross, E. F 

9724 Crowley, Divine 

7698 Cunningham, Julius. 

8271 Davis, Oscar F 

7974 Day, George 

10458 Day, .Toshua L 

6840 Dewey, F. F 

5927 Donahue, Thomas 

6338Doying, Francis W... 

3068 Drew, Francis 

6104 Dunn, George E 

10420 Dunn, William N 

10316 Elliot, Charles W 

6353 Emmerson, Geo. D... 
12065 Fairchild, Geo. L 



Private 



Corporal 
Private 



Sergeant 

Corporal 

Private 



Sergeant 
Private 



A 

M 

D 

B 

F 

L 

A 

L 

K 

D 

A 

A 

H 

F 

K 

M 

F 

F 

A 

F 

H 

H 

A 

I 

F 

I 

D 

C 

L 

F 

F 

A 

H 

A 

D 

A 

F 

F 

G 

G 

F 

A 

A 



11 
1 Cav. 

4 

7 
11 
11 

4 
11 
11 

9 

6 
11 

6 
10 
11 
11 

4 
11 

9 
11 

9 
1 Cav. 

4 

1 Cav. 

li 

9 

5 

5 

11 

11 

1 Cav. 

9 

11 

1 Cav. 

4 
1 Cav. 

11 
1 Cav. 



4 
11 
11 



Oct. 16, 1864 
Aug. 1, 1864 
Oct. 11, 1864 
Nov. 28, 1864 
Sept. 10, 1864 
Dec. 6, 1864 
Oct. 6, 1864 
Aug. 24, 1864 
Oct. 25, 1864 
June 30, 1864 
July 29, 1864 
Sept. 15, 1864 
July 3, 1864 
May 20, 1864 
Aug. 9, 1864 
Aug. 31, 1864 
May 16, 1864 
Aug. 31, 1864 
June 30, 1864 
July 24, 1864 
Julv 14, 1864 
Jurie 15, 1864 
Aug. 26, 1864 
Sept. 10, 1864 
May 11, 1864 
Aug. 12, 1864 
July 22, 1864 
Aug. 5, 1864 
Nov. 2, 1864 
Aug. 25, 1S64 
Sept. 3, 1864 
Sept. 9, 1864 
Sept. 6, 1864 
Oct. 7, 1864 
Aug. 25, 1864 
Aug. 17, 1864 
Aug. 13, 1864 
July 9, 1864 
Aug. 18, 1864 
Oct. 6, 1864 
Oct. 4, 1864 
Aug. 21, 1864 
Nov. 25, 1864 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 265 



No. 



Names. 



Rank. 



Co. Reg. 



Date of 
Death . 



821 Farmer, Edward L.... 

5851 Farnham, Leander B. 

6224 Farnham, Lorenzo D. 

j4075 Farns worth, Milo 

12317 Farrand, Andrew J.... 

11314 Farrall, Peter H 

1 2323 Fernette, Joseph 

10969 Fisk, William P 

11351 Flint, Charles E 

5914 Foster, Ansel, Jr 

8201 Foster Horace B 

11458 Foster, Haskell 

7165 Forrest, Silas 

8096 Fox, Willard 

10784 Frost, Geo. E 

3464 Freeman, Chas. E 

6758 Fuller, William J 

5480 Garey, Thomas 

1730Giloe, Aiken 

9799 Gilmar, Sydney A 

8572Gleason, Chas. W 

11598 Graves, John 

5273 Greene, Edmund 

12060 Hale, Chas. A 

5218 Hall, Benjamin 

10843 Hart, Silas L 

6657 Havens, Edwin W 

7394Hazen, Wayne 

10824 Hines, Levi 

12300 Hodge, Joseph 

11730 Holmes, Joseph 

11814 Howard, John 

11442 Howard, Keyes 

2175 Hubbard, Frank J 

10999 Hudson, John W 

10910 Hudson, Silas P 

3581 Humphrey, John M.. 

6145 Hyde, Edward 

10180 Tngraham, William... 

38.53 Jocelyn, Frank B 

4690 Johnson, David 

10183 Johnson, John W 

.3309 Jones, Hennery L 



Private 

Sergeant 
Private 



Corporal 
Private 



14 
11 
17 

1 Cav. 

t( 

4 
11 

4 

4 
17 
11 
11 

3 
11 
11 

9 
1 Cav. 
11 

3 

4 
11 
11 
Batt'v 
11' 
11 

o 

9 
9 

11 
1 Cav. 

11 

11 

11 
Batt'y 

11 

11 
1 Cav. 

11 

1 Cav. 

i( 

11 

11 

6 



May 1, 1864 
Aug. 20, 1864 
Aug. 24, 1864 
July 17, 1864 
Dec. 24, 1864 
Oct. 22, 1864 
Dec. 2, 1864 
Oct. 14, 1864 
Oct. 23, 1864 
Aug. 17, 1864 
Sept. 8, 1864 
Oct. 25, 1864 
Aug. 29, 1864 
Sept. 7, 1864 
Oct. 12, 1864 
July 17, 1864 
Aug. 24, 1864 
Aug. 13, 1864 
June 8, 1862 
Sept. 26, 1864 
Aug. 9, 1864 
Oct. 28, 1864 
Aug. 9, 1864 
Nov. 17, 1864 
Aug. 11, 1864 
Oct. 12, 1864 
Aug. 24, 1864 
Aug. 31, 1864 
Oct. 12, 1864 
Dec. 17, 1864 
Nov. 2, 1864 
Nov. 4, 1864 
Oct. 25, 1864 
June 19. 1864 
Oct 16, 1864 
Oct. 14, 1864 
July 23, 1864 
Aug. 17, 1864 
Oct. 1, 1864 
July 24, 1864 
Aug. 3, 1864 
Oct. 1, 1864 
July 14, 1864 



266 



OVER THE DEAD LINE 



No. 



Names. 



Rank. 



Co. 



Reg. 



Date of 
Death. 



3886 Jurden, Albert E 

6968Kelsey, Luther C 

7762 Kingsley, Silas 

4207 Knapp, Lewis 

6239 Knight, Chas 

3990Knowles, CrowellM.... 

4597 Labounty, Hennery 

11074 Lachie, Henry 

4664 Lara way, Hiram 

7891 Ladabosh, Joseph 

8355 Leasot, Clemon 

12916 Lumsden, Calvin E 

8865 Manchester, James M. 

2390Manien, Patrick 

5073 Martin, Joseph 

11735 Martin, Newcomb 

4478 McCrillis, Eri 

8475 Maxham, Isiah T 

11227 McCallister, Wm. B.. .. 

2088 Mclntire. John 

7288 Melchee, Wm ' 

7324 Merrill, Benson J 

12631 Monroe, Asa L 

9405 Montgomery, Orrin A. 

9901 Morgan, Charles..... 

4616 Morse, Willard 

1544 Mosey, Alfred 

12283 Nelson, Stephen 

11067 Nichols, Harry 

6559 Nownes, Geo. H 

704 O'Brien, Wm 

4300O'Niel, John 

11992 Packard, M. G 

11041 Paige, Edgar W 

6586 Palmer, Elisha S 

5605 Papeneau, Frank 

11225 Patch, Benjamin H 

10237 Paul, John E 

3213 Perrault, Joseph 

12721 Perry, Adolphus B 

5135Phelphs, Harmon W... 

12198|Pike, Normon T 

10040iPillsbury, Franklin 



Private 



17 

11 

ICav. 

11 

11 

ICav. 

11 

5 

17 

11 

4 

1 Cav. 

9 
1 Cav. 

11 
1 Cav. 
6 
3 
1 Cav. 

9 

1 Cav. 

11 

10 

11 

11 

ICav. 

4 

11 

ICav. 

i( 

10 
11 

4 

4 

3 

4 

4 
17 

4 

9 

4 

4 



July 24, 1864 
Aug. 26, 1864 
Sept. 4, 1864 
July 26, 1864 
Aug. 20, 1864 
Sept. 10, 1864 
Aug. 3, 1864 
Oct. 17, 1864 
Aug. 3, 1864 
Sept. 5, 1864 
Sept. 10, 1864 
Feb. 8, 1865 
Sept. 16, 1864 
June 24, 1864 
Aug. 8, 1864 
Nov. 2, 1864 
Aug. 1, 1864 
Sept. 11, 1864 
Oct. 0, 1864 
June 17, 1864 
Aug. 30, 1864 
Aug. 30, 1864 
Feb. 10, 1865 
Sept. 21, 1864 
Sept. 27, 1864 
Aug. 3, 1864 
June 1, 1864 
Dec. 13, 1864 
Oct. 17, 1864 
Aug. 23. 1864 
Apr. 23, 1864 
July 30, 1864 
Nov. 13, 1864 
Oct. 17, 1864 
Aug. 23, 1864 
Aug. 14, 1864 
Oct. 20. 1864 
Oct. 2, 1864 
July 13, 1864 
March 3, 1865 
Aug. 9, 1864 
Nov. 30, 1864 
Sept. 29, 1864 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 267 



No. 



Names. 



Rank. 



Co. 



Reg. 



Date of 
Death. 



3183 

4983 

: 1426 

6699 

11009 

9462 

1888 

13691 

8138 

7697 

9894 

6096 

11966 

15911 

12266 

7509 

4580 

12514 

10897 

12552 

6640 

5707 

2943 

648 

7813 

12561 

10811 

3382 

S444 

5963 

7810 

9574 

5823 

6587 

11171 

11220 

8436 

3784 

11476 

11287 

7920 

11840 

5307 



Plude, John 

Preston, Thad's R... 
Ranney, Antoine.... 
Ransom, Geo. W.... 

Raymo, F. A 

Raymore, Lewis 

Reed, Dean W 

Rice, Fred W 

Roberts, J. M 

Roscoe, Curtis W.... 

Ross, Horace F 

Sanborn, Henry M. 
Sanborn, Martin S.. 

Scott, Geo. W 

Scott, Royal A 

Sexton, Thomas B... 



Private 



Seward, Orange 

Shea, John 

Sheldon, Harry G... 

Sheldon, John 

Simmons, Samuel.... 
Skinner, Francis A. 

Smith, John C 

Spoor, Wm. 

Sprout, Andrew J... 
Stewart, Edwin W. 

Stiles, Azro B 

St. John, Andrew... 

Stockwell, A. S 

Stone, James A 

Sweeney, George.... 
Tallman, Wm. C... 

Tatro, Alfred 

Taylor, Henry C 

Taylor, James W.... 
Thompson, Wm. A. 
Tupper, Hiram E.... 

Tuttle, CyrusS 

Twaddle, Wm 

Wakefield, J. H 

Ward, Alfred 

Wardner, Oel 

Warner, Geo. O 



Corporal 
Private 



Batt'y 
11 

4 
11 
11 

9 
1 Cav. 

4 
11 
11 
11 

4 
11 
ICav. 

4 

4 

5 
1 Cav. 



4 
iCav. 

17 
11 

3 
11 
11 
11 
11 
11 

9 
11 
11 

4 
ICav. 

4 
4 

11 
3 

10 



July 11, 1864 
Aug. 7, 1864 
Oct. 24, 1864 
Aug. 23, 1864 
Oct. 16, 1864 
Sept. 20, 1864 
June 13, 1864 
Oct. 31, 1864 
Sept. 7, 1864 
Sept. 3, 1864 
Sept. 27, 1864 
Oct. 11, 1864 
Nov. 11, 1864 
Aug. 17, 1864 
Dec. 12, 1864 
Sept. 11, 1864 
Aug. 2, 1864i: 
Jan. 8, 1865';^ 
Oct. 14, 1864 
Jan. 29, 1865 
Aug. 23, 1864 
Aug. 15. 1864 
July 5, 1865 
Apr. 20, 1864 
Sept. 4, 1864 
Feb. 1, 1865 
Sept. 12, 1864 
July 15, 1864 
Sept. 11, 1864 
Aug. 17, 1864 
Sept, 4, 1864 
Aug. 15, 1864 
Aug. 16, 1864 
Sept. 11, 1864 
Oct. 19, 1864 
Oct. 20, 1864 
Sept. 11, 1864 
July 22, 1864 
Oct. 26, 1864 
Oct. 21, 1864 
Sept. 5, 1864 
Nov. 3, 1864 
Aug. 8, 1864 



268 



OVER THE DEAD LINE 



No. 



Names. 



Rank. 



Co. I Eeg. 



Date of 
Death. 



4533 
8239 

11711 
3177 
9178 
7063 

11783 

10510 
4376 
5075 

12156 
1589 
4435 
7689 
8264 

14398 
5751 

11865 
7322 



Washburn, Samuel... 

Watkins, Geo. E 

Webster, Wm. A 

Weller, David 

Wells, Chas. K 

Wells, Geo. A 

Wheeler, Byron 

White, Alonzo 

Whitehill. Geo. W... 
Whitney, Abel D..... 

Willey, Chester S 

Wilder, Levi F 

Willson, Alva K 

Witt, Teodore, 

Woodmancy, Geo. F 

Woods, James M 

Woodward, S. P 

Worthing, Silas T.... 
Wright, Clark S 



Private 



ICav. 

I i 

4 

9 
11 

4 
11 
11 

6 

9 
11 
11 

6 
1 Cav. 
11 

4 
11 
1 Cav. 
11 



Aug. 

Sept, 

Oct. 

July 

Sept. 

Aug. 

Nov. 

Oct. 

July 

Aug. 

Nov. 

Aug. 

July 

Sept 

Oct. 

Oct. 

Aug. 

Nov. 

Aug. 



2, 1864 
8, 1864 

9, 1864 
11, 1864 
17, 1864 
28, 1864 

3, 1864 
8, 1864 
31, 1864 
8, 1864 
25, 1864 
2, 1864 
31, 1864 

. 3, 1864 
24, 1864 
24, 1864 
15, 1864 
6, 1864 
30, 1864 



ERRATA. 



Page 12, line i, for None but, read Few but. 

Page 12, line 9, for bespeak, read foreshadozued. 

Page 12, line 18, for Frederick's Hull Station, read 

Frederic Hall Station. 
Page 27, line 13, for Cavalry rider read, Cavalry raider. 
Page 35, line 10, for rank read ranks. 
Page 47, line 6, for /o«r, read six hundred. 
Page 70, line 21, for ^f^", read si.v hundred. 
Page 94, line 8, for saw it, 7ead saw iit. 
Page 135, line i, expunge the after follozcing. 





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CONTENTS. 



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CONTENTS. 

Page. 

To arms ! To arms ! was the pass-word 2 

What misery I behold ; wounds undressed 6 

He gave me a message to his widowed mother .... 7 

I found him dead by my side 8 

God help us if this is true • ^ 

As the guard cried the hour of three I spoke to him 

again ^^ 

Halt! Who goes there? 10 

Kilpatrick's famous cavalry raid 12 

Col. Dahlgren killed ^3 

Sleeping in the saddle ^4 

Boom ! Boom ! rang out the rebel gun 16 

My horse escapes 1° 

I could hear the enemy cheering 19 

Oh, for a few moments of precious time 20 

Fearfully wounded . 21 

Bound to the earth by my dead horse 22 

May God bless, and protect you, my boy 23 

18 



274 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

Again and again I cried for help 23 

One more chance for life 24 

Weak from loss of blood 25 

You have the power to shoot me 29 

In the old blacksmith shop with rebel officers 30 

Informed there was a horse at the door for me 32 

"Goodbye, Yank, keep your courage up" 33 

In the rebel capitol 34 

Free carriage to the "Libby Hotel" 35 

In Castle Thunder 36 

With a terrible oath, he ordered me to step aside. ... 38 

Sentenced to death 40 

A brutal act 41 

False accusations 43 

Are we to be shot like dogs ? 44 

On Belle Island ; found friends 45 

Will they dare to kill us ? 46 

Arranged for my disguise 47 

Anxiously awaiting the trying moment 48 

The dreaded Dick Turner , 49 

What a weight was lifted as I passed that man un- 
observed 50 

I promptly answered to the name of Sibley 51 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 275 



Dick Turner's speech 5^ 

The confession was made to save liis comrade 53 

An implement of torture 54 

Turner's disappointment 55 

Andersonville. whose history was to startle and shock 

the world 56 

The last message 57 

Oh boys, we are not going home! 59 

But hark ! the shrill whistle of the locomotive is heard 60 

Sixty men in each box car 61 

Ignorant of our destination 62 

Terrible suffering, my wounded leg slung to the side 

of the car ......; . . 65 

Three prisoners shot while trying to escape 66 

Rebel guard accidentally shot 67 

Arrival at Andersonville 69 

Division of the prisoners 70 

Dividing the rations 72 

My first meal in Andersonville 73 

Paid $15 for an old oyster can and half canteen. ... 74 

Thirteen Vermont boys for a mess, or family 75 

The fatal dead line 76 

A cripple brutally murdered yy 



276 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

Thus the dead in Andersonville were disposed of ... . 78 

He Hfted his gun and fired 80 

Yes, boys, T am wounded, but I think not fatally .... 81 

A man buried alive in an Andersonville well 84 

''Shot at the dead line" 85 

A gang of desperadoes called Mosby's Raiders 86 

Brutally assaulted by Andersonville raiders 88 

Became totally blind 89 

Andersonville ! Andersonville ! ! as he was launched 

into eternity by the hangman's hand . ., 9(3 

Andersonville raiders tried for murder 90 

An enraged Dutchman, "listen to vot I say" 92 

Running the gauntlet; an awful scare . .. .1 94 

Introduce myself as a fortune teller 97 

A Masonic pin brings aid . 98 

We were encouraged by the kindness of the rebel 

sergeant , 99 

Six camp robbers hung loi 

Capt. Wirz brought in the condemned men 102 

The Catholic priest was endeavoring to minister to 

their spiritual wants 103 

I cut a lock of hair from the dead boy's head, and 

placed it in his little Bible 104 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 277 



Outside the stockade for the first time 105 

Farnsworth's death; only two left 107 

Hopelessly insane he tore the clothes from his body. . 108 

Indians could not stand confinement 109 

A planter claims a negro prisoner as his ex-slave. ... no 

"Dat am Sam Johnson's nigger sure" m 

Our rations, one pint of unsifted corn meal to each 

man 112 

When the mortality exceeded 200 per day 113 

Should he chance to peruse these lines 117 

It was not difficult to identify our man 118 

We gave the poor fellow all the assistance we could ..119 

Knowing his doom was sealed 120 

The first shot passed through his body 121 

An Andersonville beer shop 123 

I went into trade 125 

Failed in business 1 126 

A fearful undertaking 128 

A living man carried to the dead house as dead. ... 129 

A trying ordeal 130 

A close call .....131 



278 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

At six o'clock the blood-hounds encircled the prison, 

led by "Old Spot" . ., 134 

Orders to pack up ^ 135 

Under fire of our own guns for 1 1 days in Charleston, 

S. C 136 

Arrived at Florence 138 

A break for liberty ....,......:.... 139 

The woods were filled with fleeing prisoners 142 

Lost my comrade ..... .<. . . .,. . . .1 142 

Travelled in the swamp all night . 144 

"Partake or die" 144 

Our flag in sight ,...., 144 

My feet and knees were bleeding freely , 145 

We talked of our friends in the far away North 146 

We could judge nothing of the distance we had trav- 
eled 147 

In sight of a habitation 148 

"O Lor! massa, din't you-ns' scar dis ole nigger?". . 150 
In a few moments the old slave returned with food. .151 

Wandering in Southern swamps 153 

Halt ! who comes there ? 1 54 

They proved to be friends ; escaped prisoners 155 

We hold a consultation 156 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 279 

We borrow a ham, to be paid for when we come that 

way again I57 

We do not beheve the shot to be fired by the people 

of the place i 158 

About midnight the barking of the blood-hounds is 

heard i. 160 

On! On! through the darkness and solitude of the 

night we must wend our weary way . 161 

About tO' give up 1 162 

Hunted down like wild beasts 163 

Ayers looking for food 164 

Secreted by slaves 166 

They throw our pursuers off the trail 167 

"If brodder Jonsing will has no 'jections I will 'sist 

dis gemmen wid a short season of pray'r" . . . .169 

"Dar is no one pass in de daytime" 171 

"O Lor! sabe us, dey is comin" . . . . . ./.... 171 

Of course I would abide by his decision 173 

Uncle Eben 174 

Beholding a live Yankee 175 

The old slave's prayer 176 

We prepare to leave the Christian people 177 

Taken by moonshiners 179 



280 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

"We-uns must look into you-ims case" i8o 

"They's mighty polite" i8i 

At the desperadoes camp 182 

On a rickety table were dirk knives, clay pipes, black- 
strap, rum and revolvers 183 

The moonshiner's w^ife perishes in the flames 184 

Soon after our arrival the scene is terrible 185 

Ayers said, "Come on, now is our time" 186 

Two well armed outlaws as our guides 188 

Taking the North Star for our guide 190 

He exclaimed, "My God ! what are we going to do?" 191 
Ayers accosted him with "Good morning, Uncle," . . 192 

My God! we are pursued by blood-hounds . . . 193 

Surrounded by blood-hounds 194 

We told them we were Confederate teamsters 195 

Recaptured 196 

Recaptured by blood-hounds 196 

Our captors divide their rations with us 197 

The mystery soup . ... ., -. .1 198 

The old lady ordered me to give up the servants 

"wescut" 199 

Nine days and nights wandering through Southern 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 281 

swamps and mountain fastnesses 201 

"Where the vermin dieth not, and the fires are not 

built" . . 202 

Arrival at Florence 203 

Hull and myself concoct a scheme 204 

"Flanking" for extra rations 206 

Caught 206 

"Two men absent; call the roll" 207 

Headed for the whipping post 208 

Ordered before the brutal chief 209 

Disgrace of being publicly whipped 210 

"O'ive a mind to lit um schkip" 211 

"Take to yer hales, me lads" 212 

T was obliged to sleep within two hundred feet of 

this rendezvous of suffering 213 

I saw my comrade step out, he was chosen 214 

I was alone, comparatively alone 215 

Exclaimed aloud, "Must I die in this awful place?". 216 

I saw I had struck the right man 217 

"United we stand, divided we freeze" 218 

We made a brick house, size 7x5 feet 219 

The terrible storm that burst upon us 220 



282 OVER THE DEAD LINE 

Oaths, prayers, groans, mingling- with the elements in 

the relentless fury of the storm .222 

Suffering for want of fuel after the big storm 225 

It fell like a thunder bolt on the starving men 226 

Voting for President in Florence, beans used for 

ballots 227 

A Confederate stood by to see fair play 228 

Standing closely together we kept from freezing .... 229 

Drew a tall hat, otherwise was naked 230 

Paroled at last; homeward bound 232 

My life depended upon what he would say 234 

"Take this, chuniy," the poor fellow said 235 

He stood near the fatal dead-line and waved me fare- 
well 236 

Again I meet Comrade Miller 238 

Their silence meant freedom 239 

The scene changes . 240 

I heard his sad story 240 

Charleston literally torn to pieces 242 

"Get into line," echoed through the dark and gloomy 

apartments 243 

On board one of our ships 245 

New clothing 1 246 



OR TRACKED BY BLOOD-HOUNDS 283 

"Do you know my boy?" a mother asked. "Yes, he 

was shot for stepping over the dead line" 248 

Bidding farewell to the sad scenes 249 

The dying soldier's story 251 

Trying to escape from the desperadoes 253 

*'We are running fast, to-night" 255 

"Where will we meet the express to-night?" 255 

"And you are the man who dares to tell me my busi- 
ness?" 257 

In the hands of a crazy engineer 258 

"My God! we are lost," exclaimed the fireman 259 

"There," said the mad engineer, "raise that damper". 260 

As he spoke a tear rolled down his cheek 262 

Name, Company, Regiment, No. of grave of all Ver- 
mont soldiers who died in Andersonville 263 



)Q2 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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